


Alpha 1

by Demon_Wheelchair



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2019-11-15 05:45:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 75,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18067694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demon_Wheelchair/pseuds/Demon_Wheelchair
Summary: They thought her dead. They find her again. But what she has become is not they remember. Samatha Witwicky is the perfect weapon.





	1. 8 years in her future

**Author's Note:**

> For the woman who encouraged me to write as a child, now sadly gone. My return to writing is done in her memory. I hope I make you proud Nana.
> 
> The story is more or less finished, just a few edits to make and any comments with directions are welcomed, as they will shape the story.
> 
> Sam has been twist to Megatron’s needs and now her wrath is turned on the Autobots.

Will Lennox looks out along the desert plane surrounding the military base, stretching for over forty mile in each direction. Only a single road serves the base, visible for a considerable distance in the crows nests along the perimeter fencing. The fencing itself is high voltage and reaches twenty feet in height. A lesser man would consider all of this as extreme. A man in the know would start asking where their high intensity rounds and guns were. A man in the know would know about the Cybertronians, the two warring fractions, of the Autobots and Decepticons.

Their base had received a god send, a human employee of the Decepticons had just gone turncoat and was being flown to their location, both for safety and interrogation. Everyone was on tender hooks waiting for attack, because surely the Decepticons knew of this betrayal.

The high speed fighter jet had just touched down within their perimeter and soon he would be underground and out of reach. Lennox was just starting to hope that luck was finally on their side. Since Samantha Witwiky’s death eight years previously, every plan and fight had failed to go in their favour. The Decepticons had yet to outright win, but their own battles had rarely ended in their favour. High numbers of casualties and deaths had shown how badly outclassed they truly were.

A ring of security forms around their man as they hurry him across the last open space for the blast doors. Autobots stand facing out into the desert, armed to the teeth and ready for any movement out there. Smokescreen is at his post monitoring the motion detectors circling the base, ready for heavy motion underground, over head or on the land.

Lennox stares down at the man, a smile tugging his lips. And then a spray of blood and brain matter showers the guards as their man drops to his knees and tilts forward, like a marionette after their strings are cut.

Nobody understands what just happened. No one knows how or where from. All they know, is their singing canary had just had his brains blown out.

“Up there!” Ironhide’s voice carries over the shock, pointing up into a nearby crows nest.

The fixed Gatling guns whirr into life on all four rails and began raining down rounds on those on the ground. Lennox sights his sniper riffle at the nest and spots the ten man team cut to ribbons and propped over the end of the four guns, their body weight being used to keep the weapons firing. He tilts his sight lower, just catching a black fleck of something scrambling down the skeletal structure under the nest. They are too fast for him to take a shot.

“There’s something climbing down to ground level. Stop it!” He barked over the comms. Scooping up his binoculars he tries to ID the Con. It lands in a crouch on the ground, dust blowing up around it. What he could see of the figure was something small, slim and humanoid in shape. A sniper riffle is strapped on the back.

He catches a glimpse of a black face made of dull metal before it races across the ground and behind the building. Over the comms he hears the ‘shink’ sound of metal blades and the agonised screams of men. The Autobots have rushed around either side of the building and out of his view.

He maintains his location, gritting his teeth against the need to race down there and help. But it might pass by his location again and he can’t risk emptying the nest.

“Oh my god!” Simmons’ awed whisper reaches him, even over the cries of dying men.

Lennox looks over to the man’s neighbouring nest to see him hanging precariously over the railing with a pair of binoculars.

“Report Simmons!”

“It’s her! It’s Alpha One!” His excitement is clear on the open channel. Lennox feels his stomach drop out. Alpha One, the bane of their existence for the last six years. She is Megatron’s assassin, there are rare photos of the woman perched on his shoulder like some deranged parrot. She had killed humans and Autobots alike, caused the death of untold numbers. She could kill in an endless list of methods, favoured few except her Katanas. Lennox had crossed her path a few times, even had a bullet curtesy of her pistol. And she’d gotten onto their base. Probably the one person they failed to account for in this plan. Because they genuinely didn’t think she would be able to gain access to their base. Fool on them for this failure to consider that Megatron would send his pride and joy in after them.

“Put the bitch down!” He screams over the comms. He spots Epps running towards the edge of the building having abandoned his post in his rage to face the woman. Just last week their colleague who had been with them from the beginning had taken a Katana to the throat and bled out in Epps’ arms.

Epps had been manning one of the Gatling guns and was now racing out to meet his death unarmed. He is steps away from the building corner when an EMP blast launches Ironhide and Bumblebee flying from the back of the building. A chunk of metal lands into the dust before the running man. He scoops it up, barely breaking his stride and pulls it back in a batters stance.

Across the comms Lennox can hear the deranged cackling synonymous of the mysterious woman. She swings around the corner twirling both Katanas behind her and deflecting the bullets aimed at her back. An Autobot Cannon impacts the wall on the corner edge, showering concrete on her. Perhaps it was the debris that blinded her to the raging man baring down on her smaller frame, but Epps swings true. The Cybertronian metal connects with her mask and knocks her off her feet, landing her flat on her back. From her prone position on the ground she kicks Epps in his knee, blowing the cap from its placement. Epps’ dropped painfully to one knee and brings a blow down at her head. She rolls over backwards, avoiding the impact that fractures the earth. She rises to her feet and thrusts a Katana forward to the man before her. Her damaged mask splits in two and falls away from her face.

Epps drops sideways, dodging the blade and she swings the handle into his face. He collapses to the earth and she starts running once more.

“Sam?” Epps stutters over the comms, rolling onto his back and staring at her retreating form. Bullets kick up dusty lines about her as she zigzaggs the open area.

“Sam?” Bubblebee’s static voice echoes on the comms.

“It can’t be!” ‘Hide cries out.

“It’s the kid! It is her!” Simmons joins.

“Little one?” Primes’ whispered response joins the fray of sound. “Samantha!” He shouts over the expanse.

Several Autobots in vehicle form cut off her path and began circling her. She skids so hard that she slide out onto her back. When stretched out Lennox can finally see Alpha Ones’ face, teeth bared in a snarl, anger twisting her features. But even cloaked in foreign rage her face is unmistakeable.

Samantha Jane Witwiky is lying in the middle of a desert army base, alive. Lightly tanned, youthful with a criss cross of scars on the right side of her face. Her long, dark hair is pinned tight to her skull. She is dressed in a black cat suit with weapons strapped all over her body.

She pushes herself to her feet and takes a stance, one blade parallel in front of her and the second horizontal behind. She uses both blades reflective metal to look around her 360 degrees without having to move. Prime strides into view behind her, walks past her and stops in front. He crouches down on one knee and gazes at her, blue optics piercing into her soul.

The Autobots stop driving around her and take bipedal form, circled about her two or three deep. Prime is the only one coming down to her height.

“Samantha.” He speaks clearly. She drops her fighters stance, lowering her arms and stands to her full height, chin lifted defiantly.

“Come to end me personally I see.” She speaks clearly, no sound of breathlessness from her ten minutes of carnage.

“Samantha, how do you come to be here?” Prime presses, ignoring her accusation. She holds her arms out to her sides, blades dangling loosely like extended wings on an angel. Her motions cause a number around her to charge their weapons and take aim at her. A cruel grin cuts across her face.

“Do it!” She screams. Prime holds a servo out to his side to calm those circled about her. She drops her head back and releases a crazed cackle out into the air. Her body rocks with her laugh adding to the psychopathic noise.

“You think you can get me to tell you all of my masters’ plans?” She continue, chuckling. “Think you can torture those secrets off my tongue? I’ve known pain and torment that few in this universe can even dredge up in their nightmares Prime. I’ve been torn to sunder and pieced back together. Do your worst and when my master collects my corpse he will repay you twice over for your slight.” Her voice, even her accent is all wrong. Her mannerisms in comparison to the gentile and timid girl she had once been is so apparent, but that face is hers.

Lennox feels tears rise unbidden at the tirade she spews forth. Prime shakes his helm miserably.

“My little one.” He whispers. “I could never bring harm upon you.” He confesses, extending a trembling finger towards her. She scowls at him, ignoring the approaching appendage.

“Then your weakness will end with my personally escorting your soul into the Well of Sparks.” She sneers viciously. Her hands tighten on the handles of the Katanas as his finger reaches closer.

An electric charge jumps across the space between them, impacting her chest. She bites off her unbidden scream and drops to one knee, fighting against the current. She keeps a hold on both blades, smoke rising from her palms. Prime cuts the charge and visibly gapes at her ability to remain conscious. Her head drops forward onto her chest as her shoulders jolted with residual current.

A dark chuckle rises into the air. She flops back on her heels and tips her head back on her neck, regarding the Autobot leader above her.

“Need to do better than that.” She taunts. Blood drips over her lips and dribbles down her chin where she has bitten her tongue. She spits blood at the Prime.

Something impacts her neck and she visibly winces, slapping a hand to the object sticking in her flesh. She pulls it free and looks down into her palm at the injector dart. Her eyes rise and lock onto Simmons.

“You’re dead.” She hisses, clenching her fist. Suddenly her eyes roll back in her head and she tips forward. Prime catches her before she impacts the dirt and lifts her gently off the ground. Optimus gazes down upon her unconscious form laid out in his servo. A circle of metal tied on her throat by a black ribbon, proudly displaying the Deception symbol. Intense pain thrums in his very spark. What have they done to his Sweetspark?

 _“This_ _is a really weird feeling. I hope I don’t get motion sickness.” The holoform driving the Peter Built glances with amusement over at the young woman sitting next to him._

_She’s blindfolded to keep the surprise he has for her. His smile grows as her nervous babble continues._

_“You’re not just driving me around in circles –“_

_“Samantha.” He cuts her off gently, scooping her hand from her lap and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “We are almost there.” He soothes her. She bobs her head quietly, chewing on her lower lips. He feels a sudden urge to lean forward and kiss her, restraining as he tries to force his attention back on the country road._

_He turns off and parks before the orchard entrance. Nodding to the yellow Camaro the youth behind the wheel gives a thumbs up and rolls away, back to the road. The older male kisses the back of her hand again and instructs her to wait here. He jumps down from the cabin and strides around to the passenger door, stepping up on the step he swings the door open. He guides Samantha to swing her legs out and her arms around his neck._

_“Hold on tight.” He rumbles and then scoops her into his arms, stepping back to the ground. Laughter escapes her lips and his spark pulses with joy. He strides over the grass and towards the picnic and blanket Bumblebee set up for them. He gently sets her on her feet, grasping her arms until she’s steady. He then reaches around her head and unties the blind fold._

_She squints against the light, briefly focusing on his face before looking around. Her face softens as she takes in the orchard blossoms floating around them and the sunset behind him. She rests a hand to the side of his face, rubbing the stubble on his cheek._

_“You’re a sweetheart. Going to all this effort.”_

_“Anything for you Sweetspark.” He responds, turning his face into her palm and placing a kiss to her palm._


	2. Detained and displayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detained by the enemy, Alpha 1 faces them with rage and spite. The Autobots just want Sam back.

Once underground the different interested parties bicker on what to do with the girl. They hole up in the secure bunker onsite, doors secure from external distraction.

The Autobot command team stand around a raised platform holding a circular conference table with the human leaders seated around.

The military leaders want to shut her away in solitary confinement and extract any and all information from her. A government branch wants to remove her to a black site. NEST want to keep her in the detainment room on site. They compromise on the Autobots suggestion. A glass room in their large brig was to house the assassin.

The argument started again when the military and government group voted to strip her naked and leave her with only a bucket, no bed or comforts. In the end she was dressed in scrubs in a dark blue colour. They provided her with a bucket but no bedding, only a metal berth to acts as a bed.

Ratchet has taken a full scan of her body and is preparing to present his findings to those present. A large hologram blooms into the space in the centre of the circular table. The image is a human body.

“She has a mismatch of Cybertronian system amongst her organic structure. The right side of her skull is repaired with our metal.” The image zooms in to show metal grafted to the bones to the right of her nose and her skull, the metal forms an eye socket and audio canal. Half of her mandible is metal and all of the teeth, top and bottom on that side are false. Her right eye is an optic instead of an eyeball. Pulling away the group can see that her right lung is false and most of her rib cage is metal. Tubing is stretched through her body, replacing veins and arteries. Nerves are repaired with nanite technology, forming bridges across dead tissue and nanites float free in her blood. Her right arm and leg bones are Cybertronian metal.

“Her brain scans indicate that she has Cybertronian chips in her brain also.” The scan of the brain displays heavy scarring to the organ. “Here,” He highlights a section of tissue. “Is where long term memories are stored.” The dead tissue is expanded. “This type of injury is gained from a very high voltage. Lethal amounts.”

“Can her memories be restored?” Simmons asks.

“The damage is too great.” Ratchet shakes his head sorrowfully. “There are no memories left to restore. I would hazard a guess that the scarring is deliberate. It simply does not match with her injuries obtained in New York.”

“What of her other injuries?” ‘Hide grunts.

“The repairs match up with the damage she sustained there.” His voice is tinged with sorrow.

“Hey, we all thought she was dead. Those injuries should have killed her.” Epps pats the mechs hand where it grips the railing behind him.

“Look, we get that she was once on our side and should be dead.” Charlotte Mearing states. “But she is a threat now. She’s the most wanted after Megatron.”

“We don’t know what she has been through.” Ratchet argues. “If her memories do not exist anymore then we need to consider what she has been taught. Sam may not understand what she is doing.”

“She’s killed on command.” The strict woman slaps her hand on the table.

“What do we know of Alpha One?” Keller asks. Simmons sighs before presenting his research. He has followed the assassin’s career, it had become an obsession.

“She pops up on our radar in Africa when she kills the Minister of Zimbabwe. For two years she kills high profile political and business targets.” A picture is displayed in the centre console. “This photo was taken during a recon run in central Africa. The Cons had gained control of the metal ore mines.” The photo displays Megatron staring down into the spiralling open mine. A human figure is balanced on his shoulder, resting a hand on his helm. A series of pictures shows the woman pacing on the space. Then she’s sitting, resting her back against the War Lords helm. Her head is tilted back in the frozen pose of a laugh. In every photo her black face mask is in place.

“This was the fight in Chenyobol.” This photo shows the masked woman balanced on the ledge of the building. A man, taller than her, is stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. The next photo has her turned into the man’s embrace and sharing a kiss, the mask pushed up on her head.

“Megatron.” Optimism growls lowly, eyes locked upon his brother’s holoform.

“She has a confirmed kill count of 347. Who knows how many more she’s had a hand in.” Those who knew the girl eight years before are pained by this information.

“Let’s monitor her interactions for a period of time. Maybe we can convince her of her past, turn her back to our side? Share your memories with her.” Keller suggests.

“She’s psychotic and deranged!” Mearing shouts. Nobody else agrees with her, coloured by their own memories of the fiery youth they once knew.

 

Prime has waited eight hour for the tranquillisers to wear off, sitting beside the glass prison the woman is locked in. She has been awake a few minutes but has not moved.

“Samantha.” He rumbled over her. She slowly opens her eyes and gazes up at the giant, then releases a put upon sigh and sits up. Her hand explores her right eye, only to find a hollow space. They have taken her optic from her. Ratchet has also switched off her comm links, EMP charge and all non-life sustaining systems. They have even removed her hair bobble and bobby pins, obviously finding the small knife she hid in her bun. Her long hair tumbles in waves about her shoulders, stopping in the middle of her back.

“Come here to gloat Prime?” She sneers, throwing her feet off the birth and rests her elbows on her knees.

“No Samantha. I’ve come to see how you are. To talk.”

“You have me confused. My designation is Alpha One.” She insists.

“Your human name is Samantha.” She doesn’t respond.

“How much do you remember?”

“My master gave me purpose after the darkness. I serve him and carry out his desires. I am his and he is mine.” She states, blank faced and tone dull, like quoting a script.

“What was the darkness?” He tries.

“My time before memory. The place I was put back together. The rebirthing and bettering of my body. I target those that risk harm to my master.” She lifts her chin defiantly now.

“Your master aims to enslave mankind to do his bidding.” Optimus points out.

“And man was designed to be ruled over. We will remake this slag pit into a glorious planet.” She spits.

Prime leans in closer. “My sweet spark.” He whispers reverently. “You once believed differently.” She frowns, confused. This is the first time she has shown something other than her blank mask.

“Do I know you Prime?” Instead of an answer he displays a hologram inside of her cell, an image of her. She’s younger, with eyes full of mirth and a mischievous grin. No scars exist on her face and both eyes are human.

She’s silent as she eyes up the image and then she’s on her feet, stepping through the image and stops before the glass wall.

“I’m going to make your death as slow and painful as possible.” She hisses. His face twists in anguish and he turns away. “You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life! When I get out of here I’m going to bring the fires of hell down upon you all!” Her voice rises with each word until she’s screaming.

He exits the room to find a crowd spilled out of the neighbouring security room, watching the footage. He shakes his helm, shoulders slumped and leaves the building, the Autobots stare in worry after him.

 

For the next three days various Autobots and humans visit her. Some trying to speak with her and others interrogating her. All she does is spit abuse at everyone.

By the end of her third day of captivity she is pacing the walls of her cage. She shouts swear words across multiple languages at each camera staring down at her. Finally she stops at the door in the glass, prising finger nails into the minute slits and trying to bodily break the seal. Her nails break under the pressure but she continues trying, slick blood smearing the glass. With a throat tearing scream she staggers back from the door, hands fisting before her.

She glares at the door and raises her arms up in a fighters pose. Throwing an arm forward she connects her fist with the reenforced material. A second punch lands, and a third. Huffed breaths escape her lips as she aims all of her anger at the glass. Her knuckles split under the repeated stress of her frustration, leaving bloody fist prints in her wake.

Ratchet throws open the door to the brig and strides to the berth, stooping down to look through the glass.

“Stop that Sam!” He admonishes her. “Sam you’re only hurting yourself. Stop!” She ignores him, focusing on trying to beat her little prison open.

Ratchet springs the lock, allowing the door to pop open. She tumbles out the opening with her next throw, straight into the medic’s servo. He tightens his grip, keeping her arms pinned to her front. An angry shriek rises from her and she starts hooking fingers in between his joints, ignoring the painful pinch as her fingers get caught in the gaps. Practiced fingers begin tearing at the wiring between his plating.

He jabs her with a tranquilliser and she fights until darkness takes her. He holds her in his open servo and checks her injuries over. Bumblebee enters the room carrying a human medical kit and cleaning supplies. While Ratchet dresses and washes her wounds, tutting at the fractures in the small bones in her hand; Bumblebee cleans the blood from the door and checks the structural integrity. Once everything is taken care of they dress her in joggers and a T-shirt.

Ratchet reluctantly decides to restrain her to her berth, hating the idea but more concerned should she injure herself again. The medic also decides to remain in the brig to watch over her.

She wakes feeling sluggish, trying to raise her heavy torso off the berth. She feels resistance over her chest and her eye snaps open, peering down at the belt strapped over her chest. Wiggling her hands she feels straps about her wrist, keeping her arms locked to the berth.

“Sam?” She turns her eye up to spot Ratchet above her, a data pad in his servo. “I don’t wish you to hurt yourself.” He explains.

Her response is a toothy snarl. “I wished to show you how we first met.” An image blooms to life above the ceiling of her prison, showing her younger self with a young male, standing in an alleyway with faces alight in wonder. The vehicles around them transform into five Autobots. She lies silently, watching the memory of her first meeting with the Autobots. When the memory finally ends she shifts her eye back to Ratchet’s face.

“What do you want with me?” Her voice is tired.

“We want to share our memories of you. We want to remind you about who you are.”

“Why?” The question is a whisper.

“Because you were once our friend. And we thought you dead. You’ve been dead for eight years and it pains me to realise what they did to you. That we could have rescued you and we didn’t. The woman before me has been twisted and lied to. You were once gentle and brave. I want my friend back.”

She says nothing, her face gives no clue as to her thoughts. So he plays more memories for her, shares with her his images of her. She’s calm and silent throughout. And when the day ends, his holoform removes her bindings and leaves her box. And still she is quiet.

More Autobots visit her over the following days, sharing video files with her. For several days she sits on her berth or stands at the glass wall watching, always silent.

Skids and Mudflap eventually sneak in a week after the event of her attack on the glass door. They share stories of pranks they’ve pull, as well as other pranks she joined them for.

_She slips through the berth room door, cracked open for her._

_“Did you guys plant the packages?” She asks, dropping the wrapped wire into the draw under one of the berths. Skids leans down to close the draw, grinning at her mischievously._

_“You bet!” Mudflap answers behind her. “Are the wires set?”_

_“Both sets.” She confirms._

_“Gentlemechs, shall we get a front row seat?” She grins back. Skids holds out a servo and she confidently steps on._

_The three casually step outside just as Ratchet walks from the medbay and Ironhide walks from the shooting range._

_“Aw Yeah!” Mudflap’s mutters beside her. Her own grin grows._

_Both mechs catch their legs on her trip wires simultaneously. A loud boom echos across the space, quickly followed by the splat of luminous pink paint and a shower of glitter. All activity on the base stops, soldiers spinning to face the threat before pausing to take in the newly decorated pair. And then the laughter rises around them._

She surprises everyone when she finally releases a laugh, light and girly. Her head is tipped back with one arm holding her ribs.

Optimus leans forward on his seat, optics fixed on her figure as she breaks her silence.

Bumblebee spends more time with her after that, sharing memories of her younger years and parents. She grins at the memory being shown, eyes alight as she watches her mother. The fiery woman stands against several men twice her height and verbally tears into the military men. They visibly shrink away from the woman, cowed by her motherly protection. 

’Bee continues to watch his charge where she stands peering out of the wall, one hand pressed to the glass, glued to the visual memories he plays for her. That morning she had started questioning him about her parents, confessing she had no memory of them. She had been riveted with every memory he shared. Even the embarrassing memories had delighted her, eliciting girly and innocent laughter from the assassin.

His processor is aware that Prime had settled in the security room and was watching the footage. He hoped the Prime saw the same human aspect of her character breaking through. He prayed to Primus that this brought some peace to the mech’s spark. The femmes previous aggressive tirade to anyone and everyone had sent their leader into a tailspin of depression.

The memory before the woman trails off and she turns her gaze up to the mech.

“Wow.” She whispers, a wonder filled smile stretching out. “She must have been a vision.” Her smile slowly fades from her face, replaced by some thoughts of anguish. She pushes away from the wall and sits on her berth, playing with her fingers, lost in thought.

He vocalises a whine to bring her attention back to him. Her eye is dark as she regards him again.

“What happened to them?” His own optics shutter in pain and his whine rises again. “Show me.” She orders him. He shakes his head in distress. “Show me.” Her voice comes out as a growl.

He stretches out on the large berth so he’s lying next to her prison and presses a servo along the top of the glass. This time he displays the memory inside the wall before her.

“ _Get to ‘Bee!” Sam shrieks to her parents, shoving them both from behind. The three humans race out of the crumbling base, lumps of concrete raining down upon them. The scars on her face don’t exist and her long hair is free flowing._

_Out into the blinding sunlight they clear the doorway just as the frame comes free, landing across their daughters back and knocking her to the ground. The weight is too great for her to lift and she scrabbles at the dirt, trying to gain purchase to pull free._

_“Ron!” Judy’s voice cuts above the noise of the fighting around them. Her parents return to her side and she frantically tries to wave them away._

_“Run!” She pleads with them._

_“I won’t leave you!” Ron snaps back, squatting next to her and slipping his fingers under the metal frame of the hanger doors. He tries to rise up, lifting the weight from her back. Judy grabs her daughter’s hands and pulls her with all her might._

_Starscream touches down behind the three and leers down at them._

_“I’ve got you now squishy!” Judy whirls on the monster, holding a piece of metal piping before her._

_“You dare touch my daughter!” She threatens. Starscream kicks at the small human, launching her several feet back into the rubble._

_“Mom!” Sam screams. Ron lifts the beam far enough and Sam slips free. She staggers to her feet and stares in rage at Starscream. He reaches down for her as Ron charges forward with his own pipe and stabs it into the extended servo._

_The mech shrieks, pulling the limb into his chest. A second kick aims the man into the same direction. Sam races over the rubble, searching and hoping. She finds them both next to each other, Judy shaking Ron’s shoulders, her torso resting over his as she tries to wake him._

_“Mom! Dad!” She shouts, drawing closer._

_“Sammy, watch out!” Judy has turned her head as Starscream’s shadow crosses their daughter. The foot smashes down upon the pair, blood spraying in all directions, covering their daughter’s front._

_Sam’s legs give way and a part of her mind wonders where the blood curdling scream is originating from. She realises it’s coming from her. Starscream snatches her up, crushing her between his fingers and choking her screams._

_“Sam!” Carries from Optimus as he looks up from his fight with his brother. Starscream pulls back his arm and throws the girl into the air. As she sails towards Optimus he stands, servos extended to catch her. An explosive is launched from Starscream and hits her flying form._

_“No!” Prime roars out, catching her charred body and looking down in horror. She continues to breath painfully in his palm, half her face and torso are a bloody pulp. Her remaining eye locks on his face and she bubbles blood up, trying to form words past her pain._

_Megatron knocks Prime onto his front and snatches her up. His sinister grin ends the video with Prime bellowing her name._

‘Bee croons down at the woman as she sits frozen, still staring forward. He brings his face in front of the woman’s gaze. Her face is that cruel, cold mask. Her eye gleams darkly and her hands are fisted in her lap, knuckles white.

“Leave me ‘Bee.” He croons again. “Leave. Me.” She grits out.

Bumblebee stands slowly, frame displaying his sorrow. As the door swings shut behind him a scream of pure rage rings out behind him. Optimus watches on as the woman releases a long, throat tearing scream. She folds in half and wraps her arms around the back of her neck. His spark aches for this tortured soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are welcome, especially in shaping the story.


	3. Building trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam begins to understand. Begins to choose her side in this fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of time skipping and a slow chapter, but it’s needed for the later direction of the story.

Optimus keeps watch on the security cameras, observing how she lies on the metal berth. She had rolled onto her stomach a few minutes ago and buried her face into folded arms. He notes the tremble in her shoulders and the increase in intensity. He turns from the monitors and out to the brig. He silently enters and kneels down on the floor, peering through the glass walls at her figure. His holoform appears within the glass encasement and approaches the shaking woman. His human holoform is tall and muscled. Short dark hair, lightly tanned face aged around late thirty. His chest is broad with wide shoulders, trim waist and strong thighs. He wears light blue jeans, a red T-shirt and checkered, open shirt over the top.  
He sits on the birth and reaches out a hesitant hand, stroking her hair.

  
“Sweetspark.” He murmurs. “I am sorry.” She raises her head up to look at him, tear marks on her cheeks.

  
“Optimus.” She moans, voice breaking under the strain of her tears. She suddenly launches herself bodily at him, gripping him tightly with her arms about his neck, her hot face pressed into his clavicle. Gut wrenching sobs escape out of her throat as she clings to him. He winds his arms around her back and holds her tight.

  
“They must hate me.” She sobs, her body shaking uncontrollably. “What would they think….of all I’ve done.” He shushes her, rocking her slowly. “No! They died for me…what have I done?” She hyperventilates against his chest and he wrestles her back so he can see her face.

  
“Shh sweetspark. They could never hate you, they never would. You’ve had your memories torn from you. You’ve been manipulated and taught only to hate. If they were here they would proclaim their love for you, always and forever.” He frames her face in his hands. “We could never hate you. We want you to remember that which you always fought for. To look upon us all once more as your cherished. They could never hate you. We will never hate you.”

  
A low keen escapes her lips and he pulls her back into the hug, tugging her into his lap. For half an hour he whispers reassurances to her and strokes her back and hair.  
Finally, when she has no more tears to shed and exhaustion starts to steal her away he slowly lies down, refusing to abandon her at this cross road. Her body settles into a familiar position, him on his back and her tucked into his left side. Her right leg is tucked under his left, her right throw over it. Her torso is draped over his with her hands fisted in his shirt and her nose touching the hollow of his throat. His arms are wrapped around her ribs, hands folded at her waist.   
Eventually she drifts off into sleep and he presses a kiss into her hair, nose assaulted with familiar smells.

He comes out of recharge to the feel of fingers ghosting over his holoform flesh, sparking goosebumps in their wake. He moans deep in his chest as his human body shivers in carnal delight of the familiar touch. He tightens the grip on her waist and drops his nose into her hair, girly laughter bubbling across his chest. He jabs a practised finger into her side, jolting her body draped across him.  
His memories finally catch up with him there. He stiffens under her body and she reluctantly pulls out of his reach. She sits up over the side of the berth and keeps her back to him, hunching over on herself.

  
“We once shared something intimate didn’t we.” He slowly sits up behind her, studying her body language.

  
“Yes.” He whispers. She breaths a heavy sigh.

  
“That’s why you’ve never shared your memories with me. Because they pain you.”

  
“Yes.” He whispers again.

  
“Leave me Prime.” She drops her face into her hands. He stands on a cliffs edge facing the dark familiar pain of loving her and he’s lost on which choice to take.

  
“You have always fought beside me, fought for me. You’ve died for me once before. I never got over my loss of you.” He sits up next to her. “I expect nothing from you. I seek only to bring you some peace. To bring you home.”

  
She lifts her head and looks him in the eye. “This past week I’ve…found connections again with each that they share with me. But they are small pieces of a much bigger picture. Last night…it was…it’s like… I came home to you.” She reaches a hand and rests it to his cheek. “Waking up to you felt right, for the first time in my memory.”

  
Neither could say who moved first, but the second their lips meet a fire ignites between them. They claw at each other’s clothing, pressing their bodies tight together. The sparks of electricity rage within them both.

  
Eventually, the needs for air breaks their kiss. Neither open their eyes but press their foreheads together while sharing gulping breaths of air. Sam holds his face between her hands.

  
Suddenly Prime cuts his holoform and he staggers to his feet, fleeing the brig via the door. He doesn’t stop running until he is outside.

 

She’s taken to exercising daily in her cell, using the berth as steps to jump from the floor, up and back down. She shadow boxes and runs through katas. Anything not to dwell on her thoughts, not to think of every question that comes up.  
Ironhide is the first to visit her since Prime ran out the brig yesterday. She’s shadow boxing today.

  
The weapons specialist looms over her cage and peers down on her. “It has come to my attention that you need release.” She cocks an eyebrow at him. “You need to burn off your energy.” He clarifies.

  
“Bit difficult in here.” He gives her a smirk.

  
“I’ve convinced the rest to let my holoform train with you once a day. You can go all out without injuring my true form.”

  
“I could go for that.” She agrees, her mad gleam igniting in her eye. He nods at her grin.  
The door to her cell pops open as Ironhide forms his holoform onto the Autobot sized berth. He’s tall, slightly shorter than Prime but more muscled. Dark brown hair cut military style. A camouflage T-shirt stretched tight over a muscled chest. Black combat trousers and military boots.

  
Sam steps out bare foot in grey joggers and a white T-shirt. She casts her eye about the berth, taking in the solid metal walls, concrete floor and ceiling.

  
“Rules of engagement?” She asks without looking at him.

  
“I’ll let you go all out.” He smirks in response.

  
“You’ll regret that.” She comments back, finally turning to face him.

  
In the security room a large gathering of NEST soldiers and Autobots stand glued to the screen, placing bets for a winner.

  
‘Hide moves first, throwing a punch to her chest. She calmly twists, allowing the punch to fly past her and leans back on one leg, snapping off a kick into the mech’s gut. He curls over the blow, grimacing at the pain of her metal reenforced limb. He swings his out stretched arm, aiming to clothesline her. Her arms wrap around his arm and she lifts her body onto his swinging arm. Once he’s near the end of the swing she kicks both legs out, catching him in the face and knocking him over.

  
He raises his throbbing head off the berth to find her standing, feet apart and hands fisted at her hips. He rises to his feet and rushes her smaller frame, ducking low to gore her. She jumps up faster than he anticipated and locks her thighs around his neck. He stumbles forward with the extra weight on his front and she hooks her arms around one of his, rotating over his bowed back and pulls his arm painfully behind him.

  
He drops to his knees and tries to prise her legs from his neck. Failing that he tries to reach for her body, clawing helplessly at her side. Unable to move his arm out of her hold he drops backwards and uses his body weight to crush her.  
Her grip relaxes and he rolls away, rising to his feet and goes to stomp on her mid section. She rolls backwards and flips to her feet.

  
Rushing her again he starts throwing punches watching as she deflects and twists away from his blows. She spins between his arms and throws an elbow into his nose. He staggers back, holding his face in his hands. Sam moves in, kicking and punching his body, knocking him to his knees. She steps past him and comes up behind, wrapping the crook of her elbow under his throat and pulls his head back. She locks her other arm around the back of his neck and tightens the lock. The air cuts off from his lungs as the hold also presses down on both jugular arteries, cutting off the blood to his brain.  
As the darkness builds in his sight, his limbs go lax. Just as he thinks she’s going to kill his holoform, she lets go and steps back. He falls forward, getting his arms under him as he coughs and sucks in lung fulls of air.

  
Something crouches down in front of him and lays gentle hands to his shoulders, pushing him back onto his heels so he’s in a better position to breath. He opens his eyes as Sam rubs her hands over his throat, trying to sooth the redness there.

  
“You ok?” She asks quietly. He can’t help the bright smile that steels across his face. He honestly thought she would kill his holoform. Unable to speak he nods before pulling her into a hug. She freezes for several seconds before slowly wrapping her arms around his back.

  
Eventually he dispels his holoform and his bi-ped form settles on the floor, looking down upon her. They sit for nearly an hour sharing battle stories. She never shares her stories of killing NEST soldiers or severely injuring Autobots, something he’s thankful for. But he enjoys hearing her other missions and scraps with Decepticons.   
Although he was once close with her former self, he could never talk with her about his war stories. He still grieves for the gentle and mischievous girl who played pranks with the younger ‘Bots, but he finds a better connection with this deadly woman, formed in the midst of blood and death.

 

A week later another Autobot turns up wishing to train with her.  
Drift strides into the brig and hovers over the glass cell. “I understand ‘Hide has been doing daily training with you. In hand to hand combat.” The small human stands confidently, head tilted back to view the mech.

  
“You are correct.” She bows at the waist respectively. “We have yet to be introduced. Alph…I mean Samantha Witwicky.”

“My designation is Drift.” He lowers a hand to the large berth, holding something between his fingers. A Japanese male holoform blinks into existence and takes the offered Katanas, strapping them to his belt. “I also understand that your melee weapon is the weapon of the samurai.” The holoform states. The Cybertronian lowers down a familiar pair of Katanas, resting them next to the glass doorway.   
The door unlocks and she rushes out, kneeling on the berth caressing both weapons and checking them in turn.

  
“You cannot hurt my holoform.” He watches her as she sweeps her hair into a messy bun, securing it with the bobble outside the door. “I would be honoured if you would train with me.”

  
“You sure about that? I’ve been pulling my punches with ‘Hide, I’m less likely to with my preferred weapons.” She warns him, pulling both straps over her shoulders and resting the blades upon her back.

  
“I can take it!” He tells her, taking a stance a few feet away. She rises gracefully to her feet and silently thanks Ironhide for providing her with a sports bra after she requested one.

  
“You’re going to regret saying that.” She smirks, sliding into a stance and watching his body posture. They rush each other, pulling only a single blade out and meet in the middle. Their metals clash and they each throw their weight behind their blade. Drift grunts as her strength pushes him back. He ups his strength in his holoform and uses his taller frame to push down on her.  
In a quick shift she slides her blade down and slices his fingers, dancing away on her toes. He swaps hands and sucks on the bleeding digits, listening to her musical laughter cross the space.

  
She twirls the blade in one hand and prowls around him. “You actually going to give me a challenge?” He pulls his second blade and charges her.

  
For the next ten minutes they fight, the clash of steel echoing in the room accompanied by increasingly laboured breathing as they both go all out.  
Eventually they part from the fight, each checking their wounds. He has several light slashes in his sides and back and she has some on her shoulders and upper arms, a busted lip cutesy of a punch to her face.   
Once both are back in a stance he rushes her again, swiping and slicing out at her, trying to back her into the glass box. She startles him by suddenly flipping over the top of him and kicking both feet into the back of his shoulders, launching him forwards into the wall. Two slashes to his hands causes him to drop his weapon and she presses her blades across the back of his neck.

  
“Yield.” She hisses into his ear, pressing her body into his back. He tries not to vocalise the things her actions do to his holoform.

“Yield.” He bites out, suddenly missing the feeling as she steps away. He cancels his holoform, not wishing to explain the painful tent in his trousers.

  
“You are indeed a skilled warrior.” He rises up behind her. She flashes him a grin and removes the blades from her back, holding them out for him to take them.

  
Ratchet slams the door open and storms into the room. “Will you and Aft-Hide stop injuring her!” He bellows out.

  
“Ratchet it’s ok. This is tame in comparison to my previous training.” Sam waves him off. Ratchet pins her with a dark stare. “What?” He vents a sigh, crouching down so he is closer to her level.

  
“What sort of training?”

  
“Fights for life and limb. You learn very quickly through that method.” She explains with a shrug, pulling her bobble from her hair and placing it beside her box. Although they allowed her to tie her hair up for training, they don’t allow her to take it inside her cell. It took a very long and embarrassing conversation to allow her to have the sports bra, she doesn’t fancy making any more requests.

  
“Well we avoid maiming each other.” He huffs.

  
“Why? To earn injury is to learn from your mistake.” She states it so matter of fact that both Autobots shutter their optics.

  
“Things are different here.” Ratchet eventually says. He forms his holoform near her and extends his servo out, holding his human medical supplies out. He gently grasps her chin and turns her face to him. He swipes the blood off her chin and lightly presses the cloth to her lip. She doesn’t even flinch causing him to raise an eyebrow.

  
“Pain’s nothing new to me.” She mutters behind the cloth. He checks the slashes on her upper arms, cleaning each in turn. When he reaches her shoulders he quickly tires of the sleeves in his way.

  
“Top off please.” He instructs. She complies, throwing the T-shirt over her head and tosses the ruined material to the side.  
Drift suddenly turns away so his back is facing them. They both gives the ‘Bot a funny look before Ratchet checks her injuries.   
In the security room Lennox and Epps turn away from the screen. Optimus actually leans forward causing Lennox to give a sharp cough. He glances down at the man.

  
“Look, I know you both had something together after Egypt, but this is a bit pervy man.” Optimus clears his throat.

  
“I was actually studying her scars and tattoos.” He informs them, pulling the image into a holographic between the men, zoomed into her back. A line of surgical scars transverse her spinal column and curl out along her lower ribs. Rotating the image to her abdomen shows a scar running down the middle.  
Other scars cover her skin, non-surgical in nature. Stab wounds and bullet wounds, slashes and something that looks similar to road rash.

  
“Fuck.” Epps hisses.

  
“Eight years as an assassin. This shouldn’t surprise me, but still.” Lennox comments.  
Optimus focuses in on a tattoo across her left bicep written in multiple languages weaved into a helix that circles her arm down and past the elbow.

  
“I shall obtain you a new top.” Ratchet says over the security footage, directing her to return to her box. The door closes and both mechs leave the room. She takes the time to stretch and cool down.  
Lennox and Epps excuse themselves, leaving Optimus to watch the half dressed woman. He observes the extra muscle she has gained over the years and the flexibility she demonstrates with ease.   
His body suddenly longs to hold her and explore her new form. He pulls back and shifts away from the screen, fighting with his desires.

 

The next afternoon Lennox and Epps show up with her lunch. They confidently open the glass door and step in, Lennox extending her plate out to her. She studies them for a long moment, trying to read their body language. This is the first time any human has entered her cell.  
She takes the plate with a small ‘thanks’ and bids them to sit. Lennox sits on the berth next to her and Epps on the floor facing her. The three eat in silence for several minutes, her taking her time to look each man over.

  
“You were both here at the start.” She observes quietly.

  
“Yeah. Met you at Hoover Dam.” Epps responds.

  
“Ironhide talks of you both fondly.” She gages their reactions.

  
“We knew you well kid. We genuinely thought you were dead. Didn’t think that they would ever save you…let alone turn you on us.” Lennox’ eyes are down cast, staring at nothing with his lunch forgotten.

  
“I’m beginning to understand that now.” She responds, little more than a whisper.

  
Epps leans forward, catching her eye. “How did they do it?”

  
“Out of the darkness…they made me believe in their mission…their goal. They download skills into my mind, via the chips.”

  
“Whoa, wait! They matrix’d ya?” Epps blurts out.

  
“What?” She asks confused.

  
Lennox looks at Epps with a scowl. “It’s a movie.” He explains. “But they just…download the skills to you?”

  
“Well I have to train. The mind might know how to do it, but the body needs to learn it. It needs to go accustomed to it.” She explains.

  
“That makes sense.” Lennox nods.

  
“Man, that’s wicked!” Epps is just about bouncing in excitement.

  
“Less than a few months ago you feared me. Now you’re complimenting me?” She asks in surprise.

  
“Hey man, this is cool. So can you do Kung fu?” Lennox just shakes his head and gives an exasperated sigh.   
Sam chuckles and leans forward, willing to show off to her audience.

 

Another week passes and one morning after her training with Ironhide, she finally risks sharing something with the mech.

  
“Hey Ironhide?” The mech looks down on the woman who had been drinking from a water bottle. She’s now fiddling with the bottle between her hands. “I know there’s an inside man in NEST.” The mech crouches down so he can see her on a level field of view.

  
“Why tell me now?”

  
“Because I’m starting to figure out that I might have been working for the wrong side. And you might actually listen to me.”

  
“Are you able to prove it?”

  
“Her name is Charlotte Mearing. Soundwave would contact her via text message. It’s a coded gibberish that can only be read with her thumb print.” The mech eyes her silently.

  
“Why now?”

  
“Because I like it here and she’s probably the contact to extract me. I don’t want to leave.” She admits.

  
The mech stands so suddenly that she startles and he hurries from the room.

 

Charlotte steps away from the door, hands held before her and listens to the running feet. The sound moves past her hiding place and she breaths a sigh.  
Sam was stretched out on her berth, eyeing the unlocked door. Ironhide had ran so quickly to report Mearing that he forgot to lock the door on her glass prison.  
Her eye trails up when the brig door opens and shuts without a ‘bot stepping through. She rises to her feet and peers down at the ground, spotting the prim and proper woman stepping back, away from the door, a pistol in one hand.

  
Sam feels a dark smile cover her face as she slips out of her door and kicks off her shoes. She drops off the mech sized berth and softly comes up behind Mearing. Once a few feet behind the other woman she throws a punch at her elbow, triggering her nerves to release the gun. A second punch gets her in the back of the head dropping her to the floor.  
Sam calmly scoops up the gun and studies it intently.

“You should have cleared the room Mearing.” She points the weapon at the woman as she rolls on her back. “You should have risked it out there with them.” She adds darkly.

  
“Please. Please! You know what they’re like. I had to do it. I had to report back.” The older woman grovels. Sam lifts the gun away and begins dismantling it, throwing the part around her.  
Mearing stands up on shaking legs, bowed slightly with her hands in a prayer position. She kicks out at the older woman’s leg, an audible snap resounding in the room.  
Mearing drops to the floor screaming bloody murder. Sam just flashes her a grin and returns to her glass box, running up the edge of the Autobot sized berth and pulling herself over the edge. She steps back inside her box and settles on her berth waiting for them.  
Within seconds the brig door opens allowing several soldiers into the room. Ironhide steps in in bipedal form and takes in the room. Parts of a pistol are scattered around and Mearing is writhing on the ground with a broken leg. He spots Sam inside her box but the door is open. She gives him cheery wave before laying out on her berth on her back and listening to the woman’s pained cries as the soldiers drag her from the room.

  
“Good job Sam.” Ironhide tells her, closing the brig door behind him. He leaves her cell door open.

 

She’s alone for most of the day, but figures that everybody is busy with Mearing. There was once a time she valued being alone, other humans bored her and Deceptions could be dangerous. She had made connections with her human subordinates and some Deceptions, but she still preferred to be alone. She had less alone time when Megatron started taking a more personal interest in her. And then she began to truly fear the psychotic mech. So she thought she would enjoy her isolation here, but now finds herself missing her visitors. Lennox and Epps talked endlessly of their families and general ongoings at the base. Simmons talked nonstop about the Autobots. ‘Bee talked about their life together before New York. Both sets of twins pulled her into planning pranks for them. Que and Ratchet would talk about her Cybertronian parts and the impact they had on her biologically. Ironhide and Drift would share battle strategies.

  
Being alone all day left her wanting her visitors.

  
The brig door swings open and she suddenly sits up, looking excitedly towards her guest. Ratchet shares a smile as he approaches the berth.

  
“Come out, I have something for you.” She exits her box and gazes up into his servo which he extends out to her. “I’ve had to turn a lot of the features off, but I think you’ve earned the basic package.” Her gaze softens as she spots her optic.

  
His holoform appears before her and plucks the item up. He brushes the hair from the side of her face and takes his time fitting the item into the back plate of her eye socket. He slips the tech into the space and clips it into its holdings.   
The light glows green and then an image of a realistic eyeball forms over the light. She blinks and gives him a delighted smile. Her eyes move, taking in the whole image without having to turn her head to see to her right side.

  
“Thank you.” She says warmly.

  
He gently cups her face, stroking a thumb down one of the scars on her cheek. “You’ve earned it.” He tells her. She moves forward and wraps her arms around the taller mechs chest and back, ducking her head under his chin. He freezes stunned as she hugs him tightly and slowly wraps his arms around her shoulders.

  
“You’re welcome little one.” He responds. Eventually they break the hug and he gives her her meal for the evening. They sit outside the box and talk for a long time about how her optic works, covering the additional systems in the tech. He learns that the item gives her a longer view range and that she can see in other spectrums of light. It is also capable of displaying her memories.   
He treasures the time; both Ironhide and himself once considered her to be like a daughter to them. And although she is an assassin, he still cares for her the same way he once did.

 

The next morning she awakens as her brig door opens. Ironhide walks in and stands over her box, placing a small item onto the berth outside her door.

“Please place that on your wrist.” He instructs her. She scoops up the plastic bracelet and studies it carefully. Not detecting anything deadly she complies and watches the item tighten over her skin.  
Ironhide slowly holds out a servo, palm up in front of her. This is the first time they’ve allowed her to climb onto any of them.  
She steps on cautiously, glancing around wearily, as though something would spring out at her. The mechs eyes soften and he slowly rises her to eye level.

“I would not allow anything to harm you.” He informs her.   
He turns and walks out the room. She moves to the edge of his servo and looks about curiously. He’s well aware that she’s observing everything about her, but allows her to, trusting her not to use it against them in the future.  
Leaving the brig corridor he turns left and moves past the human army brig, her eyes catch sight of a sign above a door in the opposite direction that reads ‘armoury’. She files the information away.  
At the end of the army brig he stops and lowers her down to the floor. She steps off and reads the sign on the door, ‘shower room’. Turning back to the mech he holds out a bundle to her, which she takes and opens to reveal clothing, shampoo and soap.

  
“I shall wait here.” She graces him with a smile and slips through the door. The room is windowless with a plastic extractor fan fitted in the tiles. Obviously the only way in or out is via the door. She doesn’t care. She just enjoys her shower.

  
Twenty minutes later she steps out the room, towelling her long hair off. Ironhide scoops her up again but this time places her upon his shoulder. She balances there easily and continues to look around curiously.   
He opens a door and pauses in the frame, turning his view to her. She’s transfixed to the blue sky above her, one hand reaching out into the sunlight. Her smile is soft and wistful. As he steps all the way out she turns her face up into the sun, enjoying the heat.  
He takes her on a slow walk around the outside of the building, only pausing when she suddenly turns her face away, features twisted in shame. He glances back and realises they are facing the crows nest. He continues walking.

  
Around the back of the building he truly realises his mistake when she steps back and holds herself in a hug. He scoops her from his shoulder and brings her up to his face.

  
“Stop.” He commands her. “Don’t torture yourself over your mistakes.”

  
“I was wrong. What I did was wrong.” She bites out.

  
“And you have learnt that now. But you can’t change what happened. You can only move forward.”

  
“I deserve to be dead for what I did to them.” She snaps out. His holoform suddenly appears before her and grasps her painfully by the shoulder.

  
“You are not responsible for your actions-“

  
“I enjoy killing. No person like that should live.” She cuts him off. He holds her face in his hands.

  
“You don’t deserve to die. I won’t let you die.” Tears well up in her eyes and he pulls her into a hug. She buries her face into his chest as she looses hold on her emotions. His real form brings her into his chest and he returns back to the brig.  
He stays with her long after she’s cried herself to sleep.

 

Over the next few days the Autobots escort her outside, each of them spending time with the woman. Drift and Ironhide decide to do their training with her outside, enjoying giving her more space to fight.   
Eventually, with an Autobot escort, Epps and Lennox start taking her to the mess hall and rec rooms. The NEST soldiers are cautious of her for a time and yet don’t hold her actions against her. What Sam doesn’t know is that the NEST soldiers got to vote on her release. Some of their numbers start to warm to her and are willing to share meals with her.   
Some of her character starts to show through and she becomes more friendly with some of the soldiers, allowing some to draw her into side along hugs when walking with them.  
Her need for contact becomes common place, amongst the Autobots as well. She’s more at ease sitting in servos and being carried or perching on shoulders, resting against their helms. It’s also common practice for her to link arms with their holoforms when walking with them.


	4. Alliance chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her rescue arrives but her alliance is chosen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a delay due to a new secondment I’ve taken up. So...

One evening the core NEST team and the Autobots are settled around a large camp fire, numerous instruments scattered about them. Sam has picked up a guitar and is fiddling with the strings.  
“You play?” Bob asks, his Texan accent clear in his voice. He had been one of the few not to give her a wide birth.   
“Yeah. The mercs used to have a go about me being too up tight. Some of them taught me to play.”  
“What’s your genre?” He probs, picking up a bass.  
“Rock mostly. One of them taught me every song by All Good Things.” She gives him a half smile.  
“So you know Beginning of the end?” She nods enthusiastically.  
“Hey Joey! Jump on the drums for me.” The British man settles behind the digital drums he brought out. “Ketch, fancy joining with the keyboard?” The rest of the men turn their attention to the four, watching Bob settle beside the assassin with a bass guitar and turning the amps on so they can hear the music.  
Sam starts playing softly, eyes on the movement of her fingers. Just as Bob goes to open his mouth to start singing, an alto voice beats him to it, delighting many of the holoforms near the woman.  
“I’m staring into the valley of Hell, with a cross on my heart and smoke on my breath. We are out numbered but I’m not scared, I am ready to die, shoot my soul through the sky.” She rocks slightly to the beat.  
“Father forgive us for what we may do. Sometimes we lie when we search for the truth. We sell who we are ‘cause we don’t want to lose.” Bob joins in, providing a lower tone to her words.  
“I hear the hero’s calling out my name, in Valhalla they wait, preparing my place. I’ll take fire from the edge of the sun. Put the crown on my head, either way I have won.  
Father forgive us for what we have done. We have to finish what we have begun, and pray that tomorrow we may see the sun.” Bumblebee’s alt mode starts playing out the orchestra tune in the background. Sam continues singing alone.  
“There’s a red dawn over the land, fates dealing its hand. Times ticking to leave while you still can. Calm before the storm, pride before the fall. Goodbye to it all, good luck my friends.  
This is the beginning, this is the beginning of the end.” Sam starts playing the guitar rift.  
“Blood in my eyes, dirt on my hands, I got a bulletproof heart and I’m ready to dance. Blood in my eyes, dirt on my hands, I got a bulletproof heart. Yeah I’m ready to dance.  
There’s a red dawn over the land, fates dealing its hand. Times ticking to leave while you still can. Calm before the storm, pride before the fall. Goodbye to it all.”  
Bob takes control of the singing, letting her sing the stronger vocals over the top.  
“There’s a red dawn over the land, fates dealing its hand fates dealing its hand. Times ticking to leave while you still can, times ticking. Calm before the storm, before the storm, pride before the fall. Goodbye to it all, good luck my friends. Good luck my fri-ends!  
There’s a red dawn over the land, fates dealing its hand. Times ticking to leave while you still can, good luck my friends. Calm before the storm my friends, pride before the fall my friends. Goodbye to it all.”  
Sam takes the last bit.  
“My friends, good luck my friends. This is the beginning of the end.”  
The applause is deafening and the woman’s cheeks paint in a blush, head dipping slightly.  
“You’re gonna fit in fine here girl.” Bob nudges her. 

The very structure shook, raining dust upon her head. Rumbles of explosive weapons discharging above ground echo down to her place in the middle of the brig. She closes her eyes and bows her head, listening to each impact in turn.   
Her cavalry has arrived to rescue her. She sighs deep in her chest, they would be sorely disappointed in her next actions.   
The next blast knocks her off her feet, an ominous crack snaking through reinforced concrete overhead. The lights flicker making her gaze up from her position on her front.  
The click of the bolt in the door heralds all power going off. She pushes herself to her feet and prises open the tall door.  
Once out in the corridor she turns to move deeper into the structure. Down to the armoury.

Chaos rules the sky’s and grounds of the desert base. For every human or Autobot that was felled an equal Decepticon fell to their fire power. Optimus is knocked back, sprawling on his back and gazing up at his brother. The warlord swings down, aiming for his head.  
“Hey! Mega-arse!” Megatron glances up in the direction of the sound. Sam stands only a few feet away, dressed in her strap top and joggers. Her Katanas rest on her back and a pair of specialised pistols on her hips. Her sniper riffle is held in one hand and from the other she throws a small, cylindrical device at the Decepticon leader.   
The device sticks to his leg amour and beeps. A second later an explosion tears through the appendage, blowing out the knee joint. Megatron topples over side ways.  
A number of small drones rush her, causing her to drop the riffle and pull her pistols. Every shot aims true, exiting through the helms of those who mean her harm.  
Yet more move towards her, causing her to pull her Katanas and engage in the battle. She is vicious and accurate, moving with speed above human, enhanced with Cybertronian tech.  
Optimus rises to his peds and helps Ironhide ground the aerial assault. Sam moves beneath them, keeping an army of drones from interfering. Starscream crashes down to the ground behind them just as Megatron lunges at Ironhide. The pair crash down in a tangle of limbs. Sam darts forward and stabs her Katana into Megatron’s optic, successfully blinding him. He swipes out an arm that she side flips over but Starscream’s blast knocks her backwards out of the landing. Rolling back to her feet she’s too slow to dodge the next swipe, launching her several feet backwards into the side of a reinforced jeep. The metal folds around her body, holding her up for a second and then she falls to the ground.   
As she gets her hands and knees under her, Katanas still clutched in her fists, Starscream stomps up to her. Prime fires on the seekers’ back, knocking him sideways and away from her. She jumps to her feet and runs towards the mech, both Katanas sheathed on her back. Prime rushes the seeker from the other side, swinging his sword into his ribs. Sam leaps up, catching onto the legs of ‘Scream and climbs up the limb. When she gets to his waist she disappears under the mechs armour.   
Optimus targets the mechs face and neck, suddenly fearful of getting Sam by accident. His distraction costs him a cannon to the chest that knocks him back. The cannon next points at his spark, ready to end him. When suddenly the cannon sparks and cuts out, Starscream clutches his upper chest, giving out a shriek of pain. A guiser of energon flows from under the armour at the front of his throat. The seeker falls to his knees and Sam appears on his shoulder, racing to the edge and flips into the air. She curls up as she nears the ground, tucking into a roll that puts her on her feet facing Optimus. She spins to face the seeker, Katanas held up to defend the him.   
Starscream topples sideways and twitches helplessly on the ground as he bleeds out. She doesn’t drop her defence until his optics offline.  
The sound of battle fades around the pair indicating the Decepticon retreat. A holler of celebration echoes from the NEST soldiers and Optimus rises to his knees behind her. She lowers her weapons and turns to face him. Her left temple cascades blood down, painting her face into a mask of red and pale skin. Her bare skin has bloody scapes all over and he spies a gaping wound on the back of her shoulder. But despite all of this she flashes him a triumphant grin, a familiar sparkle in her eyes.  
He reaches out slowly for her and gently scopes her up, pulling her up to his face. “Thank you Sam.” He rumbles out. She pats his cheek plate gently, a slight caress to the touch.   
“Anything for you Prime.” She responds. 

Optimus watches as Ratchet, in holoform, checks her injuries. She sits on the berth patiently and allows him to do his job. He stitches the head wound and cleans the blood from her face. He cleans the small cuts and scapes on her arms and neck before scanning her clothed form looking for hidden injuries.  
“Top off please.” He instructs her gently. Her eyes flicker to his face before she complies, smoothly lifting the strap top over her head. She’s wearing a sports bra but Optimus roves her flesh, eyeing the multitude of injuries. Black bruising and raw scapes are visible along her spine where Megatron threw her into the jeep. A shallow stab wound is visible on her back right shoulder.  
“I can stitch myself up.” She comments, rolling her eyes as Ratchet fuses over her. “I don’t see why you need to do it.”  
“I wish to Sam.” He huffs behind her.  
“Why?” Her eyes are on Optimus but she could be talking to Ratchet. The medic vents a sigh.  
“Because you are my friend and I wish to look after you.” Her brow furrows in confusion.  
“I don’t understand.” Ratchet comes around to her front.  
“I care for you Sam, I don’t wish to see you hurt.” He still sees she is confused, but she doesn’t question further.  
Instead of returning her to her cell the ‘bots make up a berth for her. She lies awake listening to the Autobots around her, watching them patch each other up. She eventually drops off to sleep when Ironhide and Drift settle on the large berths on either side of her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust takes time to build

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...have a double chapter.

For the rest of the week she lives with the Autobots. Every morning she runs around the compound with ‘Hide’s and Drift’s holoforms before she does her drills with them. And every evening she sits outside with both sets of twins and ‘Bee, star gazing and watching them goof off. Every night she sleeps between different Mechs or Femmes.   
In her second week of full freedom Lennox gifts her a room of her own. It’s in the senior officers barrack, between the SAS Majors’ room and Lennox’s room.   
By her third week Ironhide allows her onto the shooting range with several of the ‘bots. She relishes stretching out on the scaffold with her sniper riffle tucked under her arm and chin. She spends most of the day with the mech, him challenging her to shoot different targets spread out throughout the abandoned town structure. And she can’t help but showing off to him, climbing impossible structures to prove her worth.   
That night, stretched upon her back surrounded by Autobot holoforms she feels content. At peace. Slowly, one by one, the Autobots return to their hanger. Only Optimus is left, standing behind her now seated form, mouth opening and closing as he tries to think of something to say.  
He turns away, berating himself and is just about to cancel his holoform when she speaks. “I think I have you to thank for my freedom.” He turns back to find her on her feet and facing him.  
“You fought along side us and showed that you have renounced your former ways. You have earned your freedom.”  
She stops before his holoform, head tilted back so she can look up at him, still towering above her.  
“Come to bed with me.” She whispers, strands of hair cross her face with the breeze. He can’t say no. She takes his hand and walks past him, pulling him back into the building.  
Once in her room she lets go of his hand and shuts the door with a click. He rakes his eyes up her form as she stands, watching him.  
He steps closer to her one hand curling at the side of her face. She leans into his touch and presses a kiss to his palm, eyes fluttering closed. He swoops down on her and captures her lips. That familiar heat ignites low in his belly as her hands rise to the back of his head and sink into his hair. His hands drop down her shoulders, trailing down her ribs and to her waist. A groan of pleasure passes into his mouth, allowing his tongue into the cavity to explore.   
Feeling more bold he passes his hands over her buttocks and wraps both hands to the top of her thighs from behind. Taking a hold he lifts her into the air and slams her back into the door. A dark growl draws from her, becoming louder as he melds his body to her front. Her legs wrap around his waist and she presses her core into his groin. He breaks the kiss, stuttering breath blows into her ear.  
A chuckle is breathed in return to him. He trails his tongue around the shell of her ear, grinning as her body shudders. Nosing downwards he presses open mouthed kisses to her throat, teeth scrapping her pulse point. A vocal moan fills the air. He nips once more, feeling her blunt nails dig through the t-shirt into flesh.   
His hands snake up her back and he lifts her from the door and carries her to the bed. Laying her down upon the comforter he settles above her, capturing another kiss. Her hands slip under his t-shirt and she lifts the hem up his torso. He helps her throw it over his head and then she rolls them, rising above his broad form and pressing kisses down his chest.   
A rumble escapes his chest as she lavishes attention to him. He captures her elbows and pulls her up before she can go lower, pulling her up to him he grabs her top and rushes it over her head, greedy hands relishing in the touch of smooth skin. Her bare breast now free of the clothing, dangle temptingly above him. He presses a hand to her back and pulls her closer while rising up to catch a nipple between his teeth. She hisses and tilts her head back, eyelids fluttering shut.  
Straddling his hips, she grinds down onto him. He releases her nipple and presses his face into her flesh, trying to stifle the sounds her actions bring out. This time she purposely swivels her hips, circling her core about the tent in his jeans.   
He growls and lifts her up from the bed, slamming her down into the mattress and pins her with his weight. That maddening gleam shines out from her eyes, excitement clear on her face.  
Something whispers in the back of his processor to be gentle, to treat her like glass and to love her with caresses. That was how they spent their time together after Egypt and before her death. Six months of gentle love making, worshipping her body.   
But they’ve both changed over the eight years apart, she is darker and infinitely crueler. Him broken by her loss. Right now they both want this rough and aggressive. These last three months he’s tried to keep his distance. His restraint has broken, no longer does he see her as the timid girl he gave his spark to. She is his dark warrior. And he loves her equally to his innocent girl.   
She rakes blunt nails down his side, dipping fingers into his waist band and tries to reach between them for the front of his jeans. He leans up on his elbows to give her access while trailing one hand down her toned abs and to her trouser buttons.  
He grasps her loosened trousers by the band and sits back to pull them off her hips, falling backwards off the bed in his rush. She releases a burst of laughter above him and he jumps up, shucking out of his jeans.   
She extends a hand to him and pulls him back above her. “Take me here and now Prime.” She hisses into his ear as his weight settles over her, sparks flaring to life with their skin to skin contact.  
“As you wish, my dark angel.” He responds, guiding his length between her folds. He presses in, feeling her dark heat tighten about him. He slams the rest of the way in and presses his face into the crook of her neck, trembling at the sensation of being linked with her. Gentle fingers brush through his hair. “Home.” She whispers, barely audible to him.   
“Home.” He presses into her flesh. He rises up and presses a kiss to her lips, fingers gripping her hips. “Hold on tight.” He smirks at her and then sets a brutal pace, pounding into her. Breathless shrieks rise from her as she grips his shoulder tight.  
Pressure rise within them both and she throws her head back. “Op! Op I’m gonna…”   
“Come for me sweet spark.” He pants. Her walls spasm and clamp down on him as a soft groan cries from her lips. Views of her wanton release tips him over the edge and he explodes within her.   
He drops forward, arms bracketed on either side of her head to keep his full weight from her smaller frame. She strokes slim fingers down his face and leans up to press a breathless kiss to his lips. He smiles into her kiss.  
They both roll so they are resting on their sides, facing each other. All night they share gentle touches and tight embraces. Neither wanting to end the connection between them. He explores the scars covering her body, kissing the injuries sustained over the eight years apart. 

They both rise early with the sun and he decides to join her in the shower, holding her up against the solid wall beneath the water and nipping along the curve of her throat. When both are sated and dressed he can’t help the grin when he spies the bruised flesh along her shoulders and neck.   
They part ways outside where his alt mode had camped out for the night. She gives him a long kiss before she sashays out to join ‘Hide and Drift.  
The ribbing starts the second both mechs spy the hickies on her throat. She takes great pleasure beating both holoforms into the ground before leaving to find food.

Prime and Ironhide spend a very long day attending meetings with senior advisers and the NEST Majors. One thorn in their sides continues to be Galloway, newly reinstated as the representative of the Whitehouse.   
“She knows more than she has been telling you. You’ve invited the bitch into headquarters and she swans around free. She should be locked up telling us everything!” The man rants, jabbing his finger at Primes helm across the platformed table.   
A soft voice stops any retort. “I think I’m ready to talk now.” They snap their heads up to the ceiling, spotting her form crouched on a beam above them.   
The room is a reinforced bunker with a coded lock on the large Autobot entrance and the human platform entrance. “I know where the Matrix of Leadership is. Where the strong hold is located and every outpost throughout the world. I can give a list of every Decepticon on this planet.”  
“So now you’re ready to talk? What? After you’ve checked through everything we have on base?” Galloway snarls at her.  
She graces him with a cold look. “No. Only after I checked out everybody in this room. You shouldn’t leave this lying around Galloway.” She holds out a phone, wiggling it tauntingly at the man.  
“You’re bluffing!” He snatches up his phone from the desk before him.   
“A copy, not my best work but I’m limited on resources. I must say I enjoy your emails exchange with Buzzsaw. And your text messages with a former Sector Seven Doctor.” She makes a swiping motion from the phone, aimed towards the screen on the wall. Several emails and texts light up the screen.  
“If I get you the bitch can you wipe her memories? You get to keep her as a new subject.” She reads out loud. “The bitch hasn’t said a word about the base. They know nothing. I’m about to set her up so she can be removed, make her a new gineau pig.” The man flees his seat and races to the door faster than anyone thought possible. Lennox goes to run after him but has the phone thrown his way, keeping him in place. The sound of numbers being entered into the keypad at the door keeps ending with a negative sound. “I might have also reset the codes. In case you thought you were stupid.”   
She steps off the high beam and lands in a crouch in the centre of the table. “I suspected there was one more inside man. I needed to be sure before I opened my gob. Element of surprise. Even my master doesn’t realise how much I really knew. Well…former master. Your orders Major?” She asks Lennox. The man stares dumbly at her causing her to roll her eyes and stand up. “Do you want him alive or dead?”  
“Eh…alive. Yeah alive.” Her hand flashes to her thigh and she throws a narrow object at the man. The baton connects with the back of his skull and he flops to the floor.  
“He’ll live.” She quips jumping off the table. She settles into the vacant chair and props her feet on the table. “Now where would you like me to begin?”

Later that night she’s sequestered in the Autobot hanger, sitting in Ratchet’s hand while he works in the hollow space of her eye socket, her optic rests in her hand. The holoform and mech work together to return all systems to the woman.   
The reconnecting of some wires lets her access the comms frequency and snatch up some of the data dumps.   
“That is weird.” Mudflap announces leaning down to her and poking her shoulder. “I’ve never had a squishy doing our thing.” She snatches up one of Ratchet’s prongs and stabs the finger between the joint, he quickly pulls away.   
“The fact you just called me squishy and then poked me with your finger is just idiotic.” Ratchet grabs his tool from her fingers and swats her hand.  
“Don’t give me more work.” He warns her.   
“So we can track the Matrix?” Bumblebee interrupts.   
“Yeah. And it is always in a human convoy. Keeping it moving keeps it safe.” She confirms handing Ratchet her optic.  
“How have we never found it before?” Jolt asks.  
“The box nullifies the radiation trail. But the box also give off its own frequency. I found the plans to it when I was in Megatron’s rooms.”  
“Why were you in Megatron’s rooms?” First Aid asks.  
She turns her face away, optic coming online and flaring green behind the false lens. “My sanity was in question.” She mutters. Many of them frown at her. “I am not going into detail.” She snaps, leaping out of Ratchet’s hand and onto his shoulder. She uses his helm to block their view of her.  
Optimus moves around the medic and reaches out for her, she steps willingly onto his fingers.  
“That’s enough.” He warns them gently.  
“No way! Were you shacked up with Mega-arse?!” Mudflap balks. Her response is violent, trying to leap onto the mechs frame from her higher vantage point. Optimus just manages to close his servo on her ankle, catching her out of the air and swinging her upside down. He strides from the hanger before he rights her and deposits her on the roof.  
She paces the ledge like a caged animal. “He knows nothing.” She murmurs. “They won’t understand.” Optimus’ holoform appears next to her and catches her shoulders to stop her.  
“Sam? Stop.” Her head snaps up to look at him and she harshly shoves him back.  
“No! It’s not ok. I’m bringing war to your doorstep! I was just Megatron’s whore!” He steps forward and captures her hands.   
“Sam! Those were different days. You have come home. And it doesn’t matter that he took an interest in you. It will never matter.”  
“How can you even look at me!” She shrieks, trying to pull her hands free. “I was just his tool. His to play with as he liked.” Optimus leans down and presses his lips to her, calming her and cutting her off.  
“Sweet spark. It doesn’t matter.” He assures her, releasing her hands that she curls into his shirt, tucking her head under his chin.   
“How can you even stand to be near me?” She asks softly. He folds his arms around her. “How can you stand to touch me?”   
“Sam, the things that were done to you were inexcusable. You cannot be held to account for your past.” He pushes her away so he can look her in the face. “I don’t care what you did back then. I care only for what you do now.” He pulls her back into an embrace, dropping a kiss into her hair.  
“Thank you.” She whispers, nuzzling into his hold.

Smokescreen tracks the box signature showing the convoy driving through Mexico. Sam steps forward across the hackers shoulders. “Here. The convoy will pass through this mountain road tomorrow. That’s the best place to engage them.”   
“Sorry Sam, but how do we get ourselves on that road? I thought you said the Decepticon escorts would track Autobot approach from several miles away?” Lennox points out from his perch on Ironhide’s servo. Sam folds her arms and gives him a cocky smile.  
“I never said we would take the road. They won’t be tracking the skys.” Everyone turns and stares at her. “Oh for the love of Primus, do I have to do everything myself?” She twists her right wrist and the view on the map adjusts. “Fly a plane over here, drop a load. Touch down here and come up behind the convoy. Autobots take on the Decepticons while the human convoy is stopped.”  
“Sam, we won’t be able to get boots on the grounds, even with the wing suits. We can’t physically time a jump to get us onto that convoy.” Lennox explains gently.  
Several images light up around the gathered crowd. The memories show Sam in her cat suit jumping from Decepticon planes, catching rides on various free falling Decepticons. Other images show her leaping out with human mercenaries. “You lot get me on the ground and I can tear through the convoy.”   
“That might just work.” Q states. Everyone else just glances to the ‘Bots closest to Sam before voicing their thoughts.  
“Dark Angel?” Sam turns to look at Ironhide, pleased with the new name the mechs came up with. “Let’s plan this very carefully.”


	6. The Assassin Leagues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her first mission and the true enemy are revealed

Several of the Autobots move one by one to the back of the transporter and jump out into the air. The soldiers mill about checking each Autobot’s parachute before motioning them forward to jump.  
Sam steps into the middle of the plane, dressed in an armoured cat suit. Her Katanas are strapped to her back and her pistols on her thighs. Her hair is tied up and secure on the back of her head. A battle mask is fitted over her lower face, covering her mouth and nose. The mask was a gift from Q, designed in a similar way to the Autobot’s battle masks. Hers is further designed to keep her oxygen levels high.  
Sam throws a wink over her shoulder to Prime and runs off the back of the plane, a whoop of joy echoing out into the air.  
One of the soldiers turns to another. “Did she just jump without a parachute?” Optimus jumps from the plane next, aiming his decent towards the falling woman. When he is above her he transforms around her small body, building the cabin of the Peterbuilt trunk around her. His wheels slam into the tarmac of the lonely mountain road, his mechs landing behind them and tears off after the convoy.   
They quickly gain ground, knocking vehicles off the road at the back of the convoy. “We got company.” Dark Angel shouts out, peering into the wing mirror to see the Decepticon party gaining behind them. Six in all are gaining ground. “I got this.” She informs Optimus, pulling his window down and sliding her body through the gap. She scrabbles onto the roof, crouched low against the wind and then slides down his windshield. Her aim slides her onto the bonnet covering and she gets her feet under her. Shuffling back a couple steps she stands straight and runs to his front end, leaping off the end.  
His very spark freezes as her body crosses the open road, aiming for the back of a security van. Her fingers catch on the door lip and she plants her feet on the back step. She cheekily knocks on the door. “Kooie! Anybody home?” She calls. The door pops open to show an armed man poking his head out. She grasps his neck and tips him into the road.  
Prime shudders as his wheels ride over the man, too close to avoid his body. He focuses on his beloved as she calmly steps into the back of the van. “Howdy boys.” She calls out and then launches herself into the tight space. Her lithe body dances through the bulky men, snapping kicks and punches, back flipping and sliding under them. She’s fast and vicious, snapping necks and tipping other bodies into the path of their comrades bullets.  
Optimus feels a large mech slam onto his back and is forced to transform to fight them. The convoy fly away from him, his sweet spark on her own. 

The van she’s in jerks to the right, sliding all the dead bodies to the side. She uses the distraction to pull a knife and slide it across the last man’s throat. She hears the driver give a wet cough and then a spray of bullets punch through the metal between the cabin. She hits the floor as they sting past her arms now covering her head and neck. Reaching up she drops the hatch, shoves her head and arm through the gap and returns fire to the jeep shooting at hers. Once the shooter is down she wiggles through the hatch, cursing her feminine hips as she twists the rest of the way through.   
Eyeing the driver dead over the wheel she kicks the windshield free and steps onto the hood. She watches the jeep in front of her and runs the calculations to the vehicle in front of that. It’s risky, but it should work. She reaches back for the steering wheel and crouches low, tensing her muscles in preparation.  
She jerks the wheel, turning the van side ways in a skid and leaps to the roof of the jeep. Her Katana pulls free and punches through the roof, cutting into the thigh of driver and slams his foot into the break.   
The van behind her begins to roll, lifting over her head and past. It continues onwards, catching the back of the lead vehicle and sending it into a fish tail.   
Her jeep skids to a halt, the motion too violent for her limited grip and she flips off the top and slams front first into the rolled van. She drops out of the dent her reinforced ribs have made and lands painfully on her back, trying to breath through her spasming organic lung.   
She forces herself up to her feet, impressed with the destruction she has wrought . Had she been paying attention beyond her target she would have heard the revving motorbikes coming from behind her. But she’s too busy scanning her remaining targets and their package.   
A bullet punctures her arm, shoulder and chest. She scrabbles for cover and pulls her pistols, aiming to either side of her. She gets both riders in the head and stands painfully upright. The driver of the car falls out of his seat and she shoots him in the head. The front passenger pops up, spraying his MK47 in her direction. She ducks the poorly aimed shots and slides to the back wheel, using the covering to count her targets. Front passenger and briefcase man are left. A raised hand to the window and a shot later leaves only one left.   
She stands and stalks around the vehicle, a grin splitting her face behind the mask. The man sets down the case and turns to face her. Her grin falls away.  
“Greg.” She whispers, his black mask stares at hers.  
“Alpha One, it’s good to see you again.” He pulls two Katanas from his belt and looks her up and down.   
She reaches back for her own blades but finds only one handle, the other stuck in the jeep some distance away.   
“I’m so screwed.” She mutters, forgetting the mic in her mask that connects her to the comms.  
The man rushes her and she meets his swing, ducking and dodging the weapons but being pushed back by his extra height and weight. She’s tired and already injured, one weapon down. It doesn’t take him long to break through her defence, thrusting a blade into her gut. She doubles over the blade and he uppercuts her, landing her onto her back. He plants a foot on either side of her and crouches down over her, ripping her mask free. He fists her cat suit, keeping her head up and begins punching her face over and over again.  
She thrusts a hidden blade into chest when he pulls her up again and he falls backwards. She drags herself backwards, hands reaching for her pistol on the ground.  
He sits up as she rolls on her back and simultaneously shoot each other. Her bullet explodes out the back of his head as his bullet exits out her neck.   
She sinks back, mouth wide as she tries to breath through the blood flooding her airway. The Katana still in her gut slides painfully at her back, indicating it’s passed clear through and is now trembling with her convulsions.   
Someone crashes down to the pavement next to her and grips her shoulders, pulling her up and winding their arms behind her. She opens her mouth to cry out in pain, looking up into the man’s face. His lips are moving but she is deaf to his words. He has tears falling down his cheeks and she wonders why he’s crying for a wretch like her.

He’d managed to take down two Decepticons before he could break away. His mechs cover his back as he races down the road praying she’s alright. A few seconds ago he heard her voice on the comms “I’m so screwed.” Nobody liked the tone, fearful of what could make her say such a phrase.  
He spots her lying on the ground, stretched out on her back with a man punching her in the face. Her mask is gone but the man’s mask is in place, solid black metal in a blank human pose.  
The man falls back with a knife in his chest. They raise their pistols in tandem and shoot.  
Optimus’ gaze is fixed on her as the bullet enters and then exits her throat. Blood gushes out and she flops onto her back once more.   
His holoform pops into existence, falling to his knees next to the woman. He lifts her up and rests her within his arms. Her mouth opens wide and she gurgles on blood. He’d babbling about how ‘it’s ok’ that ‘it’s going to be ok’.  
Blood runs from the break on the bridge of her nose. A second cut is on her cheek. Holes pepper her right side and shoulder. A Katana is through her gut and out her back. But the worst is the hole through her throat. Blood slips her lips and bubbles as she tries to draw air in.  
Ratchet’s holoform appears across from Optimus. “Roll her on her side.” The medic instructs, pulling a tube from his medical bag. On her side, the Doctor jabs the hollow needle into her throat, the tubing draws up the blood in her airway.   
Sam extends an arm out pointing towards the target vehicle, her arm shakes. Optimus takes her hand and holds it to his chest as Bumblebee, in bipedal form steps over the car and scoops up the briefcase. Sam, satisfied that her mission is complete drops her head and goes limp.   
“She’s just unconscious.” Ratchet soothes Prime. “Help me move her to my alt. We can return to the air base.” 

Her waking in the med bay is sudden and violent. One second she is asleep on the gurney and the next she is flinging herself up right, tearing the wires and IV from her flesh. Ratchet and Optimus grab her by her shoulders, trying to fight her back onto the trolley.  
Both mechs take strikes to their faces, their cheeks throbbing painfully in their holoforms.   
“Sam! Sam, you’re safe. It’s me.” He captures both her hands in his larger ones and holds them pressed into her chest.  
“Op?” She whispers leaning back to see his face.   
“You’re ok. We’re back home.” She nods and tries to bring her breathing back under control. He gently brushes the hair from her face as both mechs get her to rest back against the pillows.  
“You lost a lot of blood, so you’ll be weak until you’re fully restored.” She twitches at his words and drops her head at Prime’s quizzical gaze.  
“Can we not use words like restored?” She mumbles. He presses a kiss to her hand and sits down on the edge of the bed, Ratchet works around them reattaching the wires. “Did you recover the Matrix?”  
“Yes, but I was more worried for you.”  
“You’re sweet.” He can tell she’s teasing him but he doesn’t care. She proceeds to explore the various dressings on her body, assessing the damage.  
Although she gets a lot of visitors over the next two days everyone becomes aware of how difficult it is to keep her resting. Ratchet is going out of his processor just trying to keep her in the room, let alone in the bed.  
It doesn’t surprise Optimus that she escapes the med bay on the second night.

Optimus strides out of the main building and storms over to the crows nest, spotting her form sitting on the floor of the upper most level and hugging the railing. He means to chew her out, to rant and rave at her escape from the med bay, but stops when he takes in her body posture. Her legs are swinging in the air below the bottom rail, arms over the second rail and her chin resting on the third. She’s spinning a coin between her fingers, eyes locked on the shimmering item.  
He stops before her and peers down. “What’s wrong sweet spark?” His voice is soft and gentle, the opposite of the rage he had planned on displaying to her.  
“Do you know what this is?” She doesn’t lift her head but displays the coin in her palm. He scans the item and links up to the Autobot database.  
“The coin of the ten. Representative of the ten heads of the assassin leagues.” He quotes from his data search.   
“Go on.” She encourages, still glued to the item.  
“It distinguishes one of the leaders of the ten members so each sub group can recognise one of the heads. The ten units are: The Orient, Europe, Russia, the Middle East, Africa, South America, North America, Asia and Australia.” He shutters his optics in confusion. “I appear to be missing one member.” He confesses.   
“No. The tenth member are smart enough to keep their information from being downloaded. They have valued their anonymity to only the other nine leaders.” She dips into her jacket pocket, the collar pulling down slightly to reveal the dressing on her neck. A second coin is displayed to him, the faces identical. She slowly turns the coin over in her palm, showing him the symbol for the Central American leader. “His name is…was Greg Strange or Ice. He was the masked man I killed out there in the mountains. He’s one of the ten.” He turns his attention to the first coin, dread pooling in his tank. This coin has a hole through the top edge, perhaps where a ribbon had been threaded through.  
She turns that coin to the other side, displaying the Decepticon symbol on the back.  
“Not only was I one of the ten, representing the Decepticon fraction, but I have also just killed another member, one of my brethren. I’ve just painted a target on my back for the other eight to get revenge. There is nowhere I can hide where they won’t find find me. And everybody around me will be fair gain. They will kill any person who tries to shield me.”   
He crouches so he is face to helm with her, watching her eyes well up. “I need to leave Optimus. They have the skill to kill human and Cybertronian alike. You must send me away.” He shakes his helm at her. “You must!” Her voice breaks. “Please! Please! I won’t let any of you die for me! I can’t.” The tears spill down her face and she rests one hand to his cheek plate. “I won’t let any of you die for me.” She repeats.   
“Give us your knowledge on them. Present it to our group as a whole. Then we will vote.” He suggests, grasping at straws to retain her. His holoform appears behind her and holds her from behind, trapping her between Autobot and holoform.  
“If they vote to send me away, you must do so.” She pleads. Both helm and head nod in agreement, pressing into her hand and into the crook of her neck simultaneously.


	7. Voting to remain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NEST vote on Sam’s future at the base

The room is cavernous, a wide semi-circle of fixed desks rising up many rows in height. Sam stares out at the gathered crowd. Over two thousand men, women and Autobot’s are seated and watch her figure on the lectern.

“Before each of you is a pen and slip of paper.” Everybody turns their eyes to the woman standing at the podium. “I’m going to give you full disclosure on a current matter. After that I will ask you one question and you must write a yes or no response onto that paper. Then put the paper in one of the boxes at each exit. I’m informed that this organisation is a democracy. And as such you each have a say…a vote. The highest vote chooses the path forward.” She looks around the room.  
“This group are older than Greece, older than Egypt. History tells of Ethiopia or Mephotic. All I know is back in the early civilisations an ancient group was crafted. They are made up of ten families, with a head of each family standing as leader and representative of that group.  
My mission with the Autobots this week put me in direct contact with the head of the Central American group and ended in his death.” A murmur ripples around the room, causing her to pause to allow silence once more.  
“Behind me are the different families.” Each country or continent is highlighted and titled per family. “And each leader has roughly 100 follower, devoted to the cause and highly skilled. That’s an army of over one thousand followers, assassins and mercenaries.  
The more observant amongst you will realise that there are only nine families listed. And that is because the tenth family have ensured secrecy. They don’t belong on earth. They aren’t of Earth.” The Decepticon image flares to life behind her on the screen.  
“Not only have I killed one of the ten. But I was one of the ten, the Decepticon representative.” Stunned silence covers the room.  
“They will come for me. Their full force will be gunning to end me. And anyone who stands in their way or is even remotely linked to me will die at their hands. Now I can share all knowledge I have on their forces, but even knowing about them will place you in harms way.  
My question is this: will you send me away to save your lives? Yes or no?” Nobody moves, nobody replies. “You each cast a vote and the result will determine if I stay or if I go.” She turns away from the group and leaves the room.

Optimus had been one of the first to cast his ballot and was now trying to locate Sam. He’d gone straight to the security room in the hopes it saves him the leg work. He finds her in Drift’s dojo, armed with her Katanas and running through a kata.  
The other Autobots are waiting in the corridor for him as he leaves the security room with purposeful strides. He stops as their holoforms frame the corridor, unsure of their intent. Bumblebee steps up, appearing the spokes person for the group.  
“We’ve all voted in favour of her staying. Regardless of what the humans vote for, we want to remain with her. Even if we have to leave as well.” He turns to each face, trying to identify any behaviour contradictory to ‘Bee’s statement.  
“So where has she slipped off to?” Ironhide asks.  
“The dojo.” Prime responds with a satisfied smile.  
The group pile into the dojo and spit up. Drift and Ironhide move to join her in training, the medics and inventors gather to share ideas and the rest stretch out to talk or relax. Optimus settles against the doorframe to watch them all.

Major Lennox opens the dojo door, the envelope clasped tightly in his hand. Prime is directly on his right, startling the soldier slightly, unnerving him with an intense gaze. He flickers his eyes around the room, assessing every holoform in the large room.  
The kid is in the centre with her back to him, both Katanas brandished at each side. ‘Hide is on one side of her and Drift on the other, each holding a single blade against her. She’s frozen in place, one head turned slightly to view his reflection in her right blade.  
Both Autobots step back and plant their weapons, allowing her to sheath hers on her back. She turns slowly and approaches him, face blank and fixed.  
He extends the envelope to her and she grasps the offered end. As she pulls it towards her he holds his grip and locks eyes.  
“Regardless of what’s on that paper, you’re not going to like the results…either way. But you need to respect the collective decision.” He lets go and leaves quickly. Her eyes are like twin ice blades on his back.  
She turns back into the room and paces towards the opposite wall, drumming a beat with her fingers on the edge of the envelope.  
The Autobots gather in the middle of the room, subtly blocking her exit route. She spins to face them, casting her eye over each in turn and then rips the envelope open. Removing the folded slip of paper she opens it in her palm and reads the numbers.  
They all start when she rocks back into the wall behind her, crushing the paper in her fist and slides down to the ground. Her bum hits the floor and her fists are pressed into her forehead, effectively covering her face.  
Optimus is the first before her, dropping to his knees and grasping her arms. He pulls the hand holding the paper into his chest, cupping her cheek with his other hand. Her eyes are lost in a thousand yard stare, locked onto the floor.  
The paper slips her fingers and he reads the counts for yes and no, turning his eyes to her face once more. “One hundred and twelve for yes. Two thousand, three hundred said no. They’ve voted to keep her here.”  
“I’ve just signed all their death warrants.” She whispers in front of him, a single tear spills over her eye. He grasps the back of her head and bodily pulls her closer, resting his forehead against hers.  
“We are stronger together than apart.” He responds firmly.  
He grasps her shoulders and pulls her to her feet. He leads her to her room, shutting the door behind him. She paces back and fourth along the length of the bed, passing the coin across her knuckles. He intercepts her next pace, laying calming hands onto her shoulders.  
“Sweetspark. It is done, we are standing with you.”  
“Why?” She whispers.  
“Because you have my spark and I won’t let you leave. I can’t leave you again.”

“It’s the strangest thing.” Wheeljack says to Jolt, the pair watching Drift and Sam fight. “It’s a bunch of hums and clicks, but it’s cropping up everywhere. On 4Chan, on radios. It is even appearing on YouTube videos.”  
“It could be that hacker group.” Sam throws over her shoulder. “They crop up every year to locate gifted people and have them decode games and videos.” She dances left as Drift tries to take advantage of her distraction. “What were they called?” She hums to herself. “Cicada!” She bends backwards to dodge Drift’s swipe.  
Wheeljack hums in thought before he plays an audio clip. Sam spins to face him, shock clear on her face. She gets the handle of Drift’s Katana into her temple for her troubles. Staggering sideways with the blow, she ducks the next and gets Drift in a combo move that knocks him flat. A Katana is thrust into his chest and the holoform is cancelled.  
“Not cool Drift!” Sam snaps at him, pressing a hand to the swelling.  
“You just killed me!” He retorts transforming from his alt and rubbing his chest plating.  
She gives him the finger and strides over to Wheeljack. “Play it again.” They look to her. “Please?” She throws in as a question.  
Wheeljack plays the full clip as she focuses on the floor, fingers tapping against her leg. “Son of a bitch.” She gasps at the end. “Once more through.” This time she kneels in the dust and starts carving out Afghan writing. “Now why would he want to meet me?” She comments to herself.  
“Sam?” She looks up to find an audience. She focuses on Prime.  
“My SIC wants to meet me on Thursday.” She says in shock, standing to her feet. “At a road house outside of Glasgow…USA. He always had a sense of humour.”

She’s sitting in the back booth of the dinner, her back to the wall, with a clear view of the parking lot, entrance and kitchen doorway. Prime and ‘Bee’s alt modes are parked nearest her window, their holoforms are by the front door.

A tall, dark skinned man enters wearing faded army fatigues, an SAS logo stamped over his breast pocket. His eyes rove the room, resting on Bumblebee who’s facing him. He strips off his jacket and lays it down on the table, giving both mechs a view of his frame and the lack of any weapons. He gives them both a salute before crossing to Sam’s table and slipping into the bench seat opposite her.

“You’re looking well A1.” He comments, Scottish accent gruff.

“It’s Sam now.” She responds, lifting the pistol from her lap and cocking the hammer back.

“Hmm. I heard about the new operative name also. Dark Angel?” She graces him with a smirk and waits until the waitress has served them both coffee.

“So why the covert call Striker?”

“Descent is occurring. They whisper of joining you. And not just our guys.” He risks leaning in closer.

“Go on.”

“All fifty of our lot are looking to make the jump to your side. I’ve also got between ten and twenty people of each family asking to join. You’ve become very popular since you joined the Autos.” He cocks a thumb to ‘Bee and Prime outside.

“And I believe you why?”

“If you’re willing to do a mass extraction then we’re willing to undergo interrogation to prove our loyalty to you. For as long as you deem necessary.”

“Why?” She asks again.

“Because we respect you a lot more than the other heads. Plus sanity looks good on you.” She rests the gun on the seat next to her and folds her hands on the table, her eyes lock on his shirt pocket.

“Extraction location, date and time are in your phone. Don’t be late Mike.” He gives her a charming smile and stands up again, scooping her hand off the table and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“It’ll be like old times ma’am.” He sweeps out the building, grabbing his jacket off the table and disappears into the night air.

“Are you sure you can trust them?” Optimus asks over the comms. She sends a data burst with her plans in response.

_“Are we going to talk about this?” The dark skinned man places the data pad on the desk before her and slides into the chair opposite her. Alpha glances at the list of bank accounts and storage units under a multitude of names. She gives her SIC a glance before returning to her own work, analysing satellite maps for their next mission._

_“I’ve told you before that I store money and weapons around the world. Makes it easier when we target different continents. And you know my alias names.” Mike leans forward and taps one name._

_“The storage under this name is beyond your usual stores. Is this a contingency plan?” She refuses to look up._

_“The work we do on the side garnishes a large reward. It’s difficult to transfer that quantity of money between the accounts.”_

_“Alpha…I know you. I know about the situation here…I’ve seen the injuries he’s giving you.” He taps the data pad again. “That is your escape plan.”_

_When she finally glances up her fear is barely contained._

_“Let me help.” He reaches for her hand, grasping her smaller one gently._

_“Why?” Slips out, a whisper._

_“Because my loyalty lies with you. You gave me a new mission, a new life. Not the ‘Cons - you.”_

_“If it gets bad…I intend to run.” She confesses softly._

_“And I’ll follow you, wherever you may go. You have my word I’ll stay with you.” She squeezes his hand but doesn’t respond. She doesn’t need to._


	8. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the turncoats of the families.

Two weeks later at five am on a Thursday Sam leans against ‘Bee’s bonnet on a quiet Nevada airstrip.

Two carrier planes are at the end of the run way but her focus is on the dirt road before her. The Autobots and NEST soldiers are dotted around the run way, some by the road a few miles down.

Truthfully, she doesn’t expect many to actually use the road, hence why Smokescreen has set up a digital perimeter to watch for humans crossing the desert. Smokescreen pinged her to inform her of a large group entering the airfield on the east. More distant, smaller groups are registering from all angles, but this large group are the closest.

The bodies seem to melt out of the darkness and spread out in a long line, holding still for the Autobot scans to check for weapons.

“Negative weapons.” Ironhide announces from behind the line.

“Move to the carrier and wait by the ramp.” She orders. The group merge into two lines and march past her, several of them bow their heads to her or call her Ma’am. She exchanges a nod with Striker who heads the group.

Over the next hour more people arrive out of the darkness, all having crossed the desert through the night. Asian, European, South American, Australian, Oriental, African, Russian, Middle Eastern and American; roughly twenty to each group arrive. They are checked for weapons and directed to the plane.

“Angel?” Prime calls over the comms.

“Go ahead.”

“A car is approaching, ten persons within.” She blinks in surprise, not expecting any extra persons. When the car pulls up she stands straight from the bonnet to receive the group.

Striker approaches her and the car with his hands raised. “Nice surprise for you.” He calls over. She looks from him to the car as the occupants exit the vehicle, hands above their heads.

“You’re shitting me.” She gasps starting towards the car as the occupants line up in front of the car. Optimus appears behind the car watching the occupants cautiously. They line up and as one place a fist over their hearts and bow their heads to her. She repeats the action in return.

“Welcome to the Rebel Line brothers and sister.” She greats them.

“Our lives are yours to command.” They answer as one.

“Please climb aboard the right carrier and we shall return to base. Until I am satisfied that you are not spies you shall be detained and questioned.” They nod their understanding. “You have command of your families.” She adds.

Once the assassins are aboard their plane and the ramp is secured, the Autobots and NEST soldiers return to their plane. Prime picks her up and places her upon his shoulder, striding over to the plane.

“Who were the last group?” Optimus finally asks.

“The children of the current leaders. They would be the future heads.”

“Why would they turn?” She just shakes her head.

 

_“I see your hundred…and raise you two hundred.” Alpha keeps her gaze on the Asian man._

_Madan hums in the back of his throat, shuffling the positions of the cards in his hand. He throws two hundred in chips onto the pile in the middle. Alpha regards the man carefully._

_“I heard about your brother.” She finally says. His eyes flicker up to her and then down to the cards. The artic cabin the group are enclosed in gives a side ways lurch, but the combined group rock confidently with the motion._

_“We’re twins…it’s what we do. We fall out and we make up.” He refuses to meet her eyes._

_“It sounded worse than normal.” The blond Russian man comments on his right._

_“You’re a fucking gossip.” Maden grumbles. The Russian bursts out laughing._

_“Hey, John overheard you. He’s the gossip.” The American ducks behind his cards._

_“You’re not the only one.” Everyone around the table looks to the Australian man. He calmly meets each person’s gaze._

_“We’ve each thought it. That some of this isn’t following the old mission. Isn’t following what our ancestors believed in.” Slowly, each person nods their heads._

_They each get lost in their thoughts, the card game all but forgotten._

 

Back at the base, the assassins have been split up into their factions and locked up in shared dormitories. NEST start individual interviews, mixing up their questions to trip the deserters. Throughout it Sam watches the recordings and takes notes.

Jolt leans over her shoulder and reads some of her current notes, watching the footage she’s playing back.

“You are the daughter of Mia Weng-Sui? You are next in line for command. Why jump ship?” Simmons asks the oriental woman, Oki.

”My parents will choose to marry me off to a suitor. Although I will take command I must still have a husband.” The woman explains in flawless English.

“And that’s not what you want.”

“No. But more important than that is the old mission. Our ancestors combined the families to fight global wars, defending humanity against the darkness. The families have strayed from the old mission.”

“O…k…so you want to pick your own husband and put the families back on the old path?” “Yes.”

“If you’ve fled now then you must have someone you left for.” She raises her chin defiantly. 

”Alexander is my intended.”

“Good for you girl.” Sam whispers, scribbling more notes.

Each assassin gives their stories willingly, detailing their initiation to the families and their missions. Each gave a similar reason for abandoning the family, ‘get back to basics’.

The ten senior assassins for the families have their own unique stories also. Oki, of the oriental family desires to marry Alexander of the Russian families. Alexander wishes to marry her also. He is also the son of the present leader, feeling distaste for the corruption in his family.

Yoseph is the nephew of the head of the Middle East family. His cousin, next in line, had discovered the old mission with Sam and despised working for the Decepticons.

John is the younger brother of the head of the American family, Greg. His brother desired greed and money, caring nothing for the missions of old.

Mike, second in command of the human-Decepticon family wanted to join again with Sam. His loyalty remains solely with her.

Darryl’s older sister is next in line to the Australian family and can’t stand to see the darkness within his family.

Alof is the head of the European family. And much like Sam has realised his mission is false and longs to correct that.

Madan is the twin and joint head of the Asian family, having a different aim from his brother to solve man’s problems as opposed to greed and money.

Fen is the husband to the head of the African family and it tears him apart to think of his children carrying out a false belief. He is the only one who managed to bring some of his family with him.

Joel is the cousin of the head of the South American family. Unlike the rest he turns away from killing and does not believe in taking life unless it is to defend another.

“Have you had any thoughts?” Optimus asks, resting his hands on her shoulders.

Jolt watches their interaction with a soft smile, seeing the woman lean back into his touch. A lot of the ‘Bots had witnessed gentle, innocent touches between the pair. They rarely showed affection beyond a touch of the hand or an arm around a waist.

Lennox knocked on each barrack door announcing his presence and unlocking each door in turn. From each family he collected their leader, locked the door and moved to the next.

The leaders followed him silently as he moved them through the maze of passages and to the outside of the base.

A new structure was in place, apart from the main building and Autobot hanger. Once inside the new building he leads them up the stairs and out onto the roof.

A long bar stands in the middle of the roof, stocked with a wide range of alcohol. A round table with eleven chairs is placed before the bar, a drink before each chair. A stack of cards and poker chips are lined before the sole occupant, along with ten shot glasses and a gold coloured bottle.

“Please, be seated.” Sam invites them.

Although each seemed to sit randomly at the table Lennox notices that each drink on the table is different and each occupant have sat based upon the contents. Sam slowly pours them each a shot and raises her own in toast.

“To rebirth.” They each answer in their own language and knock the drink back. She then proceeds to give each a stack of chips and shuffles the cards, dealing each a hand.

Lennox sits at the bar for the next three hours watching them play. The conversation appears generic, enquiring about their health and their teams treatment. But Lennox knows this was her interrogation of the leaders.

By the end of their game and the return to their cells she speaks his confirmation.

“Three of your members are spies. I will be terminating them tomorrow. Will you require my evidence now or at the appointed time?”

“At the appointed time.” Oki answers for the group. And they return quietly to their barrack cells, not a word whispered between them.

 

Sam unlocks the barrack door and slips into the room. Her mercenaries are scattered about, talking in small groups. She spies Mike on the sofas and makes a beeline for him, tossing a data pad his way when he looks up. He spares her a glance as he peruses the information.

She’s wearing her Katanas on her back and her pistols are strapped to her thighs. Those behind her can see long bladed knives strapped upside down under her Katanas on the small of her back. Her eyes are tilted to her right, looking through her peripheral as a single man slips out through the door she left open.

Mike looks back up at her, rage clear in his eyes. His eyes flicker to the open door and back to her face, taking in the smirk that spreads across her features.

“You boys fancy joining me for a hunt?” She asks out loud. They all stand to attention. “Come on then.”

She leads them out the room, after the spy. Running down the corridor they exit the prison block into the blazing sun. As the group pour out the door behind her, Sam stops and pull her knife free from her back.

A single man runs across the dusty space, trying to reach the fences. She flips the handle and catches the blade, pulling it up to her shoulder and flings the blade at the retreating back. The blade penetrates the man’s upper shoulder and he falls flat on his face. Her mercenaries quickly surround the downed man.

As she strides past him and comes around to the front he sits up on his knees, one arm hanging useless in the socket, his other gripping his upper arm.

“Do you know what they’ll do to you when they find you?” He snarls at her. “I’ve been promised your cunt first. I’ll make you my bitch, even give you a nice collar and lead. You’ll beg me to kill you when I’m through with you. Megatron’s little slut.”

She back hands him, snapping his face to the side.

“That’s quite enough of that.” She says, as through commenting on the weather. “I was going to ask if you had any last words, but you’d only waste them.”

“Your master wants you back. So he can teach you a nice lesson.” Sam pulls her Katana free, ignoring the NEST soldiers on the roof opposite her, the Autobots stepping out from behind the building.

“Just die already.” She swings the blade out, cutting through his neck. His head rolls away across the sands as a fountain of hot blood spurts upwards, spraying her face. She barely blinks at the spray, just wipes the blood from her Katana and sheaths the weapon.

“Who’s next on my list Mike?” The man steps forward, pursuing the data pad in his hand.

“One spy in Fen’s group and another in John’s.”

“Fen’s group is closer.” She extends a bloody hand for the data pad and approaches the head. She scoops the head up in one hand and walks back into the building. The mercenaries create a wall of bodies and ten minutes later they look to the woman who rushes out the door. She slides to a stop and glares at the blockade.

A shot rings out behind her and her leg gives out as the bullet passes through it. Fen and his own men follow out and circle the felled woman.

An exchange of foreign words pass between the leader and the woman before he puts two bullets in her face.

Fen’s team mingle with the mercs and they stand and wait. Slowly each team moves outside, their numbers swelling, languages of all nations passing around. An unspoken command spreads their forces out boxing the door to the holding unit.

A minute later a young man sprints out into the sun, slowing to a stop as he realises he’s surrounded.

John and his American team step out next, moving towards the man. John holds a red canister in his hands. He pops the top and sloshes the fuel over the man.

The man drops to his knees and crosses himself, speaking Latin prayers as the man empties the rest over his head.

“Go with God.” John tells him, lighting a match and flinging it towards the him. His cries ignite as the flames do but the assassins bear witness in silence. Sam moves forward after the on-fire-man goes silent and still. She drops the head she’s carrying under her arm onto the man’s back and motions the headless body to join it. The woman’s body is the last thrown on, along with another canister of fuel.

After a few minutes watching the corpses burn, the group mingle again, shaking hands, sharing hugs and firm pats to backs.

Most of the NEST soldiers are turned away and a bit green around the gills.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bob asks Lennox.

“They have different rules compared to us.” Lennox answers.

“But is this a good idea?”

“We voted to fight the families beside Sam. This lot are necessary to do that.” Ironhide pipes up.


	9. American Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> American Family meet the new Rebel Line

It was strange to be standing in the desert air stretching and watching the sun rise, surrounded by nearly 230 other people all preparing for a warm up run. The other heads flank her, awaiting her to call the start.  
“Move out!” She crows, legs striding out across the dust. The group ran for an hour, staying together in an ever changing formation. The Autobots and NEST soldiers intermittently observed them between their usual work.   
Sam eventually brings them all to a halt in front of the training grounds, just on the edge of the abandoned town. Although they are breathing heavy they were certainly not tired.  
“Anyone fancy a suicide run before we break?” Sam asked cheerfully.  
“Oh fuck off!” One of the Aussies moans. “I thought we’d escaped the family to avoid the torture not exchange it for a new version.” Several of the crowd chuckle along.  
“Yeah, I bet the new heads wouldn’t do the run.” An Arab man joins in, his English heavily accented.   
“I’m always up for the torture run!” Alof volunteers. The other heads nod in agreement. This quickly leads to the rest of the group scaling the scaffolding that runs the edge of course, all gleefully hoping to watch a bit of payback on their leaders.  
“Do they honestly think we are incapable of completing the run?” Oki asks.  
“Lets put them to shame.” Alexander laughs.  
The movement of the assassins onto the scaffolds attracts the attention of the NEST soldiers and Autobots, drawing them closer to watch the remaining ten members.   
“Three…two…one, go!” One assassin screams above them. The eleven leaders sprint down the track, leaping and rolling over objects without slowing. They reach the first pit, jumping up and hanging from the metal grating overhead. They clear the pit and run to the next, leaping out to several ropes hanging in the middle. Sam, Yoseph and Oki catch one rope together. Mike and Alexander on another. Alof, John and Darryl catch another and Fen, Madan and Joel latch onto the last. They work as a team to rock the rope closer to the other edge before clearing the gap. Off they run, charging through the tyres, under the mesh on their bellies, through the water tunnel and up the mesh wall. The course drops them off a ledge into the town, each of them flipping into the air and rolling smoothly to the ground.   
Their final obstacle in a fifty foot tall, smooth concrete wall. Small ledges of brick or wood are dotted up the wall, with impossible gaps between each ledge.   
Sam and Oki stop next to the wall, face to face and position themselves beneath the lowest ledge. They bend their knees and cup their hands together. Mike runs at them, placing a foot in each hold and both women launch him in the air. He catches the ledge and pulls himself up. Lying flat on his belly he hooks his toes on the far edge and drops his arms down.   
Alof gets thrown up next, catching Mike’s hands and is swung out to the next ledge up. The man pulls himself on the new ledge and looks directly up to the next ledge above him. He crouches at the edge awaiting the next man.   
Yoseph gets passed up and uses Alof as a ladder to reach a ledge higher. Yoseph hangs his arms down waiting for John to reach him, where he swings the man up to the ledge ten feet above Mike. He waits to catch Darryl. This ledge is longer, giving Darryl a run up and a spring board to the farthest ledge. This ledge is barely a foot long so Darryl unhooks his belt and steadies himself to act as a pendulum. Alexander gets the unfortunate honour of being thrown at the belt suspended in the middle and getting one shot to swing on the last edge. He crouches on the edge ready to catch the next swinger. Fen joins him on the ledge, followed quickly by Joel. The two men create a ladder for Oki as she gets thrown up by Sam. Oki stands on top of the building waiting for Sam to join her and they both assist everyone else up to the top.  
Once all eleven are stood shoulder to shoulder they grasp each other’s hands and raise them into the air before dropping into a bow. Their audience applauded them.

The ten heads of the Rebel Line settle around the table in the secure room; Ironhide, Prime and Prowl spaced out to view the main screen on the wall. Epps, Graham, Lennox and Keller look to Sam.  
“I say we take the fight to them. Better to start taking them out, they are the eyes and ears of the ‘Cons.” She suggests.  
“Where should we start?” Oki asks.  
“Makes sense to start here.” John voices. “The Central American family will be the biggest threat to the base.”   
“Agreed.” Alexander joins. “You have lead brother.”   
“The club in Chicago will be the best bet. With me gone they will have passed over to my cousin. Plus we lost some numbers in the Mexican fiasco and twenty came with me.”   
“How many?” Sam enquires.  
“Probably sixty remaining.” John estimates.   
“Your twenty plus some of mine should be enough.” Sam tallies up.  
“So how do you want to do this?” Lennox asks, drawing their attention back to the non-assassins in the room.  
“Without you lot.” John responds. He stalls the protests. “Major, this is our fight and our brand of violence. I mean no offence, but this is a bit beyond NEST’s skill set.”   
“I would feel better if you at least took some of our holoforms in with you.” Optimus requests.  
“They’re following our instructions mind.” Sam warns.  
“We need to sort out delivery of shipping containers.” Yoseph interrupts. “Before carrying out this mission.”  
“Shipping containers?” Keller asks.  
“We arrived without any of our kit, doesn’t mean we didn’t store it somewhere.” Oki points out.  
“Kit being?” Graham asks next.  
“Weapons, vehicles, tech and our wardrobes.” Oki answers.  
“Already on route.” Sam chimes. The assassins give her look. “Oh come on! I knew exactly where you had the shipping containers and had them sent here. It wasn’t that hard to figure it out. And your monies have been transferred to false accounts. I know all of your aliases.”   
“You’re too crafty sometimes.” Mike snickers.  
“I suppose your own funds have been amalgamated?” Maden asks slyly.  
“Yes, unlike some people I never spent my money as fast as I made it. I always had an escape plan should I need it.”

The Bugatti Veyron pulls up outside the club, settling into the reserved bay out front. Each assassin had arrived either singly or in pairs. Bumblebee was parked in the space in front and Ironhide was parked round back. Mike had arrived with ‘Bee while ‘Hide had arrived with John.  
Drift slipped out the drivers seat and walked around to the passenger door, opening it and extending a hand to Sam. She slides out in stiletto knee high boots and an asymmetrical skirt, short on her left, mid thigh and long on her right to her knee. She wears a corset top, dark red with black stripes.  
Stepping ahead she leads the way into the basement club, the boom of the bass increasing as they descend. At the bottom of the steps Drift pauses to scan the mass of bodies. He finds ‘Hide and ‘Bee by the bar. Turning back he just spots Sam as she slips onto the dance floor, weaving between the crush of bodies. By the time he pushes his way closer she’s long gone.  
You won’t find her. Ironhide comms him. He reluctantly walks towards the other two mechs.   
They had barely been there five minutes when they spot movement on the stairs at the back, watching as two men get thrown forwards down the stairs. More violent movement occurs on the far end of the dance floor, ending with someone raising an Oozi into the air and releasing a wild spray.   
The crowd break, shrieking in terror to the main stairs back up to street level. More fights break out throughout the main floor with a separate fight on the catwalk above.   
All three mechs push away from the bar to help when Prime comes over their comms. Sam said not to get involved. Only to get them out if something goes wrong.  
The three stop, frustration clear in their stance. We can help for pits sake! Ironhide snaps back.  
“There!” ‘Bee points above them to the catwalk. Sam has a blonde man pressed back against the railing, snarling into his face. She shoves him again, steps back grasping something in her hands and plants a foot to his chest. The kick knocks him backwards over the rail and rocks her over the other.   
The man hangs in the air from a rope around his neck, legs kicking wildly. Sam swings down to the floor, easing her grip on the rope, causing the man to drop to the floor in a heap. The music cuts out.  
“You chose the wrong side Jake, but I think you realise that now.” She mocks the man as he gasps for breath.  
“Go to Hell Alpha.” He snarls.  
“You first. Now by my count this is most of your forces. Have I got anyone else to worry about in America?” She swings around, pulling the gun from the holster beneath her skirt. Her bullet passes through the skull of the man charging at her from behind. She turns back. “Well?” The man stays silent.  
She gives an exaggerated sigh, pulling the rope in her hand. The rope lifts him off the floor, leaving his toes trying to find purchase.  
“No- no!” He claws at the rope. She drops him again.  
“Now don’t go lying to me Jake.” She warns him. He suddenly lurches upright, swinging a fist at her chin. She leans back out the way before swinging the butt of her gun into his cheek, dropping him back to the floor. She leans over him, holstering her weapon, and riffles through his suit jacket pockets while he’s dazed. Standing up right she glances over the phone before opening the small cardboard box in her hand. She picks out a small white stick, slips it in her mouth and lights it with a silver zippo. The box and the lighter slip into her cleavage for safe keeping while she takes a draw in and savours the flavour.   
Grasping the rope in one hand, she slowly walks across the dance floor towards the edge railing, rising the man high into the air. The rope is skilfully tied to the rail, which she leans against and watches him swing.   
“Sam!” Ironhide barks. “That’s enough!” She gives the mech a lazy smile and turns her gaze back to the catwalk where John peers back.   
“Got some hard drives and a catch of weapons. Nothing else and no one else.”   
“He’s your cousin.” She turns her attention back.  
“Cops are five minutes out, we don’t have time.” He responds. She pulls her gun and takes the shot, leaving the corpse to continue swinging. She then throws the phone to ‘Bee who catches it on reflex. “You three get them out of here. I’ll catch you up at the airstrip.” She strides towards the main stairs with purpose.  
“Wait! We’re you going?” Drift calls after her.  
“To lead the fuzz off your tails.” She throws back.  
Drift and Bumblebee monitor her when she reaches street level, cutting through the gap between them and towards an Impala that pulls up. Both driver and passenger alight, darting into the passenger seat of each ‘Bot. Sam slips into the driver seat with the engine still running and waits until the flashing blue lights appear in her rear view. With the roar of an engine and the squeal of tyres she tears off down the road, leading the cops away from their escape. 

Over an hour later she arrives at the airfield, drives straight up the ramp and shuts off the engine, parked in front of Bumblebee. The assassin’s secure the wheels and they signal for take off, Sam remaining in her seat until they level off.   
She steps out, meeting John and Mike at the front of her car where they hand her a laptop, four empty glasses and a bottle. The pair then settle in the seats of her car, loading up their own lap tops and sipping at their drinks while checking some of the hard drives. Sam slips backwards onto the hood of the Impala, crossing her legs and settles the computer in her lap. While it boots up she pours two fingers into each glass and takes a sip from one.  
“A peace offering.” She announces without looking up at the three mechs. ‘Bee hands her the phone, sitting up on the hood and pressing in next to her. Drift slips into the space behind her so he can look over her shoulder while she connects the phone. ‘Hide settles over the windshield, tasting the alcohol.   
An hour before landing ‘Bee drifts off into recharge, sliding down Sam’s side. She lifts the laptop up and guides ‘Bee so he’s lying down, head pillowed on her thigh. She gently passes her fingers through his hair, attention still focused on the phone download. She rests back against Drift and he slips an arm around her waist.  
When Bumblebee keeps sleeping through the landing announcement, Sam makes a few hand gestures to the two men sitting in her car. They both step out, stretching to relieve the kinks and move over to the two other, non-Autobot cars on the carrier, each on either side of ‘Bee’s alt mode. With another hand motion all three cars stereos are cranked up, booming base explodes within the tin can structure.  
‘Bee starts up with a cry, rolling onto the floor face first. Drift and ‘Hide howl with laughter, quickly joined by the other assassins. He jumps to his feet with an angry scowl aimed at the grinning woman now closing down the laptop. The newer Chevrolet in front of her roar to life, rocking against the straps on his wheels.   
Sam slides off her car’s bonnet and hands off the laptop to one of her team, making a circular hand motion with the other. Several more men rush forwards and start removing the straps from both vehicles as she moves to the drivers seat and slides into place.   
‘Bee cancels his holoform as Drift and ‘Hide retreat away from the Impala.   
The carrier wheels hit the runway and Sam starts her own car up, knocking it into reverse. The carrier doors slowly drop down as the plane slows on the tarmac. Once she’s satisfied that everyone is out the way she slams her foot on the accelerator, placing one arm behind the passenger headrest and twists to see out the back windows. She hits the tarmac with a bump and squeal of tyres, glancing forwards to see ‘Bee on her fender.  
Grabbing the parking break up she swings the front round in a spin, slams into gear and tears off towards the abandoned town. She speeds through the empty street, drifting around sharp turns and then races across the open plain.   
Autobots in bipedal form dot the open space and she weaves in between them trying to shake the Scout. Once clear of the last ‘Bot she presses the nitrous button on her steeling column, launching her forwards with flames spitting from the exhaust. The Autobot storage hanger comes into view, roller doors open wide. She drifts sideways through the front doors, cutting diagonally through the back doors and circles past the assassin’s closed back hanger door and round the side wall. She circles the structure and drifts into the assassins front hanger doors. ‘Bee follows her path until she pulls the handbrake again inside the assassins hanger and spins out of his path.   
He realises his mistake when he calculates the distance to the shut door, rolling out of his alt mode and impacting the door with his back. Sam does a donut till her fender is facing him, giving him a toothy grin over the steering wheel.   
She alights from the car pulling the packet of cigarettes from her cleavage and lights it leaning back on her bonnet. The laughter rings out from the occupants of the hanger. Arcee, Chromia, Moonracer and Elita walk over in their holoforms, cackling away at the mech.  
“Femmes! Has Kristy spoken with you?” Sam asks, turning her attention the four.  
“Yes, a ladies and femmes night out. We haven’t had one of those in a very long age.” Elita responds.   
“Well I thought we’d earned a break from these mechs for a night.” She motions to ‘Bee who gives a low warble.  
“Are you smoking?!” Rages out from behind the five females.  
“Oh shit.” Sam mutters, turning to face Ratchet with a guilty look. Optimus is a step behind him, displaying a bemused face. “And what of it doc Bot?”   
“Do you have any idea of the dangers smoking has? The poisons in the smoke you inhale?!” Sam makes a hand motion that Ratchet over looks during his rant. “How irresponsible-“  
A booming bass blasts throughout the hanger, cutting Ratchet off. He slams his servos over his audio receptors and staggers back out the door. Bumblebee crawls out after him. Optimus, standing outside of the hanger winces and steps back.  
Sam just throws him a wink while passing her car keys off to their mechanics. The femmes stand around her laughing their arses off.


	10. Bloodlust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A view into bloodlust

“I demand a challenge for leadership!”   
The group in the rec room go quiet as the man stared hard at Sam. She leans against the kitchen bench looking him up and down.  
“You understand what you’re doing? Grasp the ramifications of your challenge?” She asks.  
“I fully understand and I demand a fight for your position.”   
“You’re young and new, I understand why you think you can win, but you need to understand my reputation. I will fight you and I will win.”  
“Outside in ten minutes.” He sneers, turning and exiting the rec room.   
The crowd turn to Sam and watch as she strips off her jacket and throws it on the bench.  
“I’m missing something here.” Sideswipe breaks the tense silence.  
“The kid thinks he deserves the top position. He’s just thrown down the challenge.” Sam explains. “And I’m going to kick his ass and put him back in his place.” She strides out the room, promoting the gathered men, mechs and femmes to rush after her.  
She stops several feet from the building facing her challenger. His pose is cocky, arrogance lining his frame.  
“Bring it, kid.” She smirks and they both charge forward.  
This is unlike the training that she does with Ironhide or Drift, unlike the spars with the other heads. This is violent and dangerous. And it is easy to realise who the better fighter is when the kid is nursing many cuts and bruises, hitting the dirt again and again. Sam dances around him without a single injury.  
“Yield?” She asks, stepping closer as the kid gasps for air, arms tight around his gut, throbbing from her punch. He snakes a hand into the pouch of his hoody and places the object quietly on the dirt under his hand. Bowing further forward he shields it from view and gets a tight grip, tensing for the right time. She grasps his hair and yanks his head back. “You ain’t gonna win kid.” She warns him, crouching lower to look him in the eye. “You’ve fought valiantly, but this is embarrassing-“ with a flick of his wrist while raising his arm, he flings the chain up. The padlock on the end connects under her chin and snaps her head back, the surprise and force launch her off her feet. She hits the ground on her back and blood sprays up from her mouth.   
Adrenaline surges the kid to his feet and he swings the chain down at her head. She instinctively raises her left hand and the chain and padlock snap around her palm. A chocked cry of pain and shock escapes her lips and she pushes backwards, trying to get her feet under her and only managing to slide herself along the ground.  
He spins to the side and swings the chain under her guard and across her ribs. Pushing both hands into the ground she lifts her hips off and snaps a kick into his chest. He staggers back and swings wildly as she rises up. Ducking the blow she jabs several times into the muscles around his chest, arm pit and shoulder. His hands go numb and the chain slips his grip, clattering to the ground. Next his lungs lock in contraction and he can’t breath, falling back on his ass while gasping.  
He looks up at her to find her standing straight and relaxed, head tilted to the side. Her dark eyes ignite with a gleam and a predatory grin break across her face. Bloody teeth are visible in a near snarl.  
And then she scoops up the chain and he throws his arms over his head as she rains down blows throughout his body. He screams in pain and curls inwards.  
And then it stops. He peeks up to see she’s stopped, poised ready to bring it down on his skull. A soundless snarl bares her face and then she spins launching the chain away from them, a scream of rage bellowing out.  
She snaps back and he winces ready for the next blow. “There was a time I would have just beaten you until your skull smashed open. And I would have enjoyed it. But this lot have made me soft. Made me second guess my automatic instincts. You’ll live and you’ll remember this. I have no doubt you’ll stab me in the back for it. It’s your lucky day kid, you get to survive this. No other person ever has with me.” She turns away. “Take him to medical.” She orders the crowd, stalking a path through them.   
Optimus moves to follow her but Alexander catches his arm, stopping him. “Let her go. She needs to calm the bloodlust and she’s likely to strike out if followed.” Drift appears before the pair.  
“I have this Sensei. Bloodlust I do understand.” Drift nods to them and follows after her.

Drift pushes the door open and steps out onto the roof, the top hinge creaks across the empty space. Sam, pacing the open floor between the bar and the door whirls round with a snarl. “Get out!” She snaps, body taunt in rage.  
Drift lets the door shut and just watches her. “Get out!” She roars.  
“Do you know who I was before I joined the Autobot’s?” He keeps his tone free of emotion.  
She twists away putting her back to him, head tilted to speak over her shoulder. “Deadlock, ex-Con.”   
“I thought you’d do you research. A good assassin knows their allies as well as their enemies.” He comments without any accusations, almost a compliment.  
She finally turns back with that cold mask firmly in place. “It helps that you were on my hit list. But I know of you from my time there.”   
“Then you know of my reputation.” He walks closer watching her dark eyes assessing him and stays as relaxed as he can. “And I know of bloodlust. I fight with it because that sick thrill I get should not be something an Autobot experiences. Should not be something they crave.” He’s very conscious that all of the ‘Bots are tuned into his frequency and are clearly listening in.  
She’s silent for a long time and he can’t read anything of what she’s thinking. He wonders if this is what it’s like for his allies when speaking with him.   
“How do you keep it contained?” Her voice is soft.  
“Training, meditation. And sometimes I just need to be a bit more brutal on the battlefield to keep that hunger satisfied.” He steps closer. “And when it’s too close to the surface I’m forced to replay my bloodiest memories to abate it.” He confesses. That psychotic light gleams in her eyes and he’s captivated by it. He’s standing before her, within touching distance and he suddenly doesn’t care what any of the Autos think. He doesn’t even care that she’s with Prime. Because right here is a soul as scorched as his, a kindred spirit who walks willingly with Death.  
He breaks eye contact with her, fixing his gaze over her shoulder. Images bloom into life around them and she turns slowly to take in the view.  
The planet is little more than a burning husk, with a sea of torn parts scattered around. And Drift, younger, darker and clearly a Decepticon stands in the middle of it, holding a ‘Bot up by the throat. Watching his energon bleed out into a puddle beneath. A twisted smirk staining his lips.  
Holoform Drift turns his gaze back to Sam who circles his memory with wonder on her face. They briefly meet eyes before turning back to watch the light go out in the Autobot’s optics.   
The image drifts away like smoke around them. “So I know exactly how it feels.” He whispers.  
“At first it was just about pleasing my master. Doing as he commanded. But it changed somewhere along the line to an addiction, not just about holding a life in my palm and snuffing it out by my will alone…no it became a need to hear the screams.” She shifts her view back to him. “I once tortured a man for five days, just because I could. That’s my true nature, what lies beneath the need to be good.” A sad smile slips onto her face.   
“Show me.” Drift’s voice is husky and low.   
Sam twists her right wrist and the bar is pitched into darkness, a single light in a metal room. Drift moves closer for a better look. The sound of a door opening comes from behind.  
“I’ve been looking for you.” Drift turns to face Megatron’s holoform stood in the doorway. “Such beauty Alpha One.” He purrs. Past-Sam raises her hand, back to both mechs and drops a long blade into a glass of liquid. Several sharp objects litter the table top, stained in dark red. She turns slightly with a dark grin and glimmering eyes.  
“He was just too tempting.” Sam speaks softly. She steps away to give him a clearer view. Drift fixates on her as she raises a hand towards her face and licks a strip from her palm to her middle finger tip. She visibly savours the taste of blood.   
Drift returns to the body draped reverse over the back of the chair, taking in the bloody mess.  
Megatron steps closer and circles the body.  
“You’ve out done yourself pet.” She preens at the praise.  
“I always wanted to carry out a blood eagle. And he’s still alive.” She creeps up to the man’s back, brushing her hand over his quivering, exposed lungs. And then, in a swift snap of her arm she grabs his heart and tears it out from his back.  
The holovid drifts away into smoke, leaving Drift to stare at an empty chair. “Primus, if you weren’t with Prime we could make such beautiful music together. Just think what we could achieve from a union.” He’s chest to chest with her, transfixed on the crazed gleam.  
“We would have made a very dangerous pair. But having him…having Orion, that’s worth staying clear of that temptation. As I think you know.”  
His lips curve up in a smile. “If it all goes wrong with him? You can always look me up.” She steps closer and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek.  
“I’m sure you can ask him to share.” She grins, walking towards the bar. “So what’s your solution?”  
“Meditation.” He sits on one of the sofas near the bar.  
“What sitting on the floor going ‘omm’?” She returns with a glass of whiskey each and settles on the seat next to him.  
“No, being in the moment. I can teach you meditation sitting still or meditation when running through katas. Even meditation when interfacing.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, eliciting a giggle from her.   
“Watch you don’t piss off the boss…I know they’re listening in.” He gulps, suddenly remembering that they are all in fact listening in.  
“Frag!” He moans, dropping his head in his hands.  
“Fine, I’ll bite-“  
“Oh I bet you can.” He mutters. She swats him on the arm in retaliation a slight hiss escaping her lips. He grabs her arm before she can fully retract it and takes in the damage.  
“Slag it Sam!” He gasps, pulling her hand under one of the strings of bare light bulbs over hanging them. She tries to pull away but he tightens his grip, twisting her hand back and front ways. “Love this looks bad.” He murmurs.  
“Your exaggerating love.” Two hands drop heavily onto her shoulders and she ducks her head. “Ah shit.” She whispers.  
“I’m the medic here.” Ratchet steps past her, releasing one shoulder and sits on the low table, pulling her hand closer. Drift maintains his grip while Prime rests his other hand on her shoulder, effectively keeping her in her seat.  
Drift purposely avoids Prime’s optics, focusing on her injury.   
“You’ve torn a strip of flesh around the side of your hand and to the centre of your palm.” Ratchet prods the small bones along the back of her hand. “Three broken metatarsals and both middle fingers.”  
He starts clearing the wound out and covers it with a dressing before taping her fingers together. “Is there anymore injuries.”  
“Seriously I’m fine.” She snaps. Drift gives her wrist a warning squeeze at the same time as Prime squeezes her shoulders. “I bit through my tongue when he got me in the jaw. Nothing you can do there. Chin’s going to be bruised for a while but again, nothing you can do there. Some bruising to my ribs where he got me, but nothing broken. The metal there can withstand a lot of force.”  
“Speaking from experience.” Drift comments.  
“A lot of experience. I’m fine Ratchet. It’s hardly my worst injury.” Drift rubs the skin on her wrist with his thumb making her look up.  
“I think kata meditation will work with you.” She nods her head distractedly and watches as the mech turns her hand over and massages the front of her wrist, eliciting a small shiver from her. Drift gives her a predatory smirk.  
Suddenly her head is forcefully tipped back and Optimus presses his lips hungrily to hers with a dark growl of warning. Her brain momentarily freezes at the dominating act and only reacts once the Prime ends the kiss.  
“Hang on a second!” Sam shoots to her feet and backs away from Optimus and Drift. Ratchet catches her from behind when she stumbles. “The hell I’m getting caught up between you two. Both of you…I’m not a prize to be won.” She turns away catching a glimpse of Ratchet scowling at the pair. She pats the mechs arm and motions him to the door.  
Stop trying to wind him up Drift. And stop getting possessive over her Prime. He comms them and follows after Sam, wrapping a protective arm over the woman’s shoulder.   
The two mechs are left suddenly looking very guilty, neither knowing what to say.


	11. The shame of not training to skill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Heads of the Rebel Line get a lesson in keeping up their skills

The weeks pass as the Rebel Line settle in, regular training set up between each family unit. Sam breaks off from her own training with with Drift and Ironhide to do a stint of training with each of the ten heads. Unfortunately after those several days she cancels all planned training with both ‘Bots and NEST.  
Ironhide and Drift quickly catch up with the ten heads as they return from dinner one day. Cutting off the group as they return to their rooms for the night, Sam having broken off to return to her room still based in the Senior Officers quarters.   
“Why exactly has Sam cancelled all of her training sessions with us?” Ironhide growls, towering over the group.  
“Go and ask her.” Madan retorts.  
“We’re asking the group who have filled up her calendar with daily training sessions.” ‘Hide’s temper rises.  
“Wait a sec, wait!” Mike steps forwards. “I’ll admit I’ve neglected my own training and she’s offered to do training daily to get me back in top form. But I’m not filling up her calendar.”  
“Hang on.” Alexander rounds on the Scott. “She’s doing daily training with you too?”  
“Too?”   
“Well one of my boxers might have…kinda put me down.” The Russian awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “So Sam put me through my paces…kicked the crap out of me and wants to get me in shape.” Oki snorts behind her beloved. “Hey! Kristy kicked your arse with Katanas! Katanas! Your field of expertise.” He snaps at her.  
The group very quickly descend into bickering. Drift stamps a foot to shake their attention back to them. “Have any of you actually read her calendar before demanding training?”  
“She demanded we train and she set the times.” Fen interrupts.  
“She’s training all ten of you, daily. For the next month.” Drift brings up.  
“Oh I see how it is.” Joel argues. “You both think she should only train with you two. Well she trained all of us at some point in our lives. So we take precedence.”  
“No, if Ratchet finds out she’s pulling 14 hour days for the next month you’re all going to have to answer to him.” ‘Hide points out.  
“She’s done worse. She’ll be fine.” They brush the pair off and retreat to their building.  
“I wasn’t even thinking of Ratchet.” Drift comments.  
“Neither was I. But you know he’ll find out eventually and you know what he’ll do.” They return to their hanger for the night.  
“I’m not telling him.” Drift quickly votes.  
“Oh frag no am I getting a wrench to the helm again.”

For two weeks she keeps up with the constant training but more people notice her absence from the canteen during meal time. Eventually Optimus picks up on her schedule after taking some time off his own busy schedule to spend some time with her. It’s Optimus who informs Ratchet.  
The medic had quickly tracked her down to a boxing match in the dojo, storming in just as she knocked Alexander flat on his butt.  
“My med bay, now!” He barks out from the doorway, stooping to peer into the human sized room.  
“Fucking hell ‘Bot! Inside voice!” She shouts back, hand pressed over her Cybertronian ear. “What have I done this time mech? I’m a bit busy right now.”   
“Two weeks woman! You have failed to turn up for a single meal. And you are running 14 hour days.”  
“I eat early, drink plenty of protein shakes and eat late. Plenty of people skip the canteen and eat in the rec room. Look, if you’re that worried can I swing by when I finish?”  
“Fine. It will give me an opportunity to assess the strain on your body. If you are one minute late I will come and find you.” He stomps off to the melody of her grumbling.  
At ten pm on the dot she strolls into the med bay still dressed in her training shorts and sports bra, barefoot and sweaty. She freezes half way across the room when she finally notices Ironhide and Drift also in the room. Drift sets down a carton of food next to the berth to tempt her closer. She gives a suffering sigh but approaches, sticking her nose into the container with suspicion clear on her face.  
“You can eat in a second. Sit.” Ratchet materialises his holoform, pulling a trolley up to the bed. She sits dutifully and assesses everything on the trolley.  
“What did you spike it with?” She finally voices.  
“I have not put anything in the food.” The medic snarls. He fusses around her measuring her blood pressure and heart rate, taking blood samples and scans her body with his true form.  
He then stands and hums over the results leaving Sam to glare at the remaining two mechs. Ratchet hands over the food and stares when she wolfs down the food. She just flips him the bird and continues until it’s finished.   
“You are slightly dehydrated and over heated…” She smothers a snort. “However your body shows no signs of starvation. In fact your fuel lines are fully active and appear to be feeding your muscles high protein feed. I was not aware your systems were capable of that.”   
She sticks her tongue out at the other two mech. “However, you are showing signs of fatigue and a high level of lactic acid storage in some of your muscles.” Drift shuffles closer to view some of the readings. “Some of your joints are also inflamed and there is some tearing in your ligaments and muscles.”  
“Anything dangerous?” Ironhide asks, casting a critical eye over her.  
“Mother hen.” She mutters, rolling her eyes.  
“Nothing dangerous as of yet. But if you continue in this manner you will end up doing yourself damage. I’m growing concerned with your Cybertronian knee joint also. That is showing some advanced wearing that will only be managed through surgery.”  
“Look, I know what I’m doing. When I wasn’t doing recon or carrying out hits I was daily training with man and mech. I know my limits and I know my warning signs.” The pair stare off with each other.  
“I want you back here in three days so I may reassess you.”  
“Four days.” She bargains.  
“Fine. Now get out my med bay.” She’s out the door before his last syllable is vocalised.

Whilst her assessment should have put minds to rest, it just means she then has an audience for the next two days. First Drift and then Ironhide.   
Drift is up at dawn to see her eating a bacon sandwich on her way to the dojo. She tests Fen through his martial arts katas, focusing on his form and technique. When he gets lost she then leads him through several repetitions of the kata and then speeds him through the next on repeat.  
Next she does the katas with Oki and her Katanas, followed by Alexander in the boxing ring and getting him used to fighting mixed strength and speed. Maden she takes through submission holds and countering them. Joel does mixed gun training and Darryl does solo infiltration runs.   
John she takes through flexibility and baton training. Yoseph works on strength and endurance training. Alof is put through his climbing and knife fighting.  
Mike she takes outside to develop the par cor she taught him, racing through the abandoned town to get him used to thinking on the move.  
The ‘Bots hear a repetition of accusations about all her fighting forms being downloaded to her brain. Her come back is always a variation on still having to train extensively to get the knowledge through to her body.   
The third day neither mech is available to watch over her. When Drift finishes his late shift, he decides he’s going to the shared rec room to watch some tv. Walking into the darkened room, after parking up outside in his alt mode, he aims for the sofa placed before tv. A shape on the sofa stops him dead, turning his head this way and that to work out what it is.  
A body is stretched over the length of the sofa, lying on their back with their head on the arm rest.  
Creeping closer he spies the relaxed face and limp body of Sam. He quickly logs onto the security feed, back tracking to her late session with Oki. On her way back to the rec room she suddenly crouches down next to a vehicle and coxes a small bundle of fur out into the open. She scoops the raggedy kitten up and takes it to the rec room, laying out milk and left over chicken strips on small saucer. He reviews her stretching out on the sofa to watch the stray eat. Once finished it meows at her until she lifts it onto her chest, where it curls up and falls asleep.  
Drift checks his internal tempest and then looks back on the woman. It’s 3am in the morning and she’s scheduled to be up at five. He grabs a blanket from one of the chairs and tucks it in around her body before he slips into the space at her feet, pulling the limbs onto his lap. He turns on the tv, keeping the volume low and settles into rest.

He checks back on her at 8pm the same day, finding her and Yoseph fighting on the scaffolding between two of the buildings in the abandoned town. They each fight with a staff while dancing over the metal poles under foot. In the waining light Yoseph is clearly struggling. However Drift is more focused on Sam who keeps pausing to balance. He realises too late that her next move was wrong.   
She pulls her stomach in, bending over the swinging staff and knocking both her feet out in a little hop. Her toes slide over the unfixed bar, causing it to roll backwards. She drops into the gap still bent over and falls, arms clawing out to grab something. Half way down her ribs smash into another pole and she disappears into the dark of the open basement, the sound of her impact indicating she’s stopped falling.  
“Sam!” Yoseph screams, crouching down and trying to peer through the darkness. Drift rushes forward, turning his lights down into the dark.  
“I’m ok.” She coughs out. “Just give me a minute.” She groans.  
“Stay there. I’m coming down to you.” Drift tells her, materialising his holoform onto the ground level and jumping down to her.  
He spots her lying on her side still holding the staff. Kneeling down next to her he gives her a once over in the limited light. A red mark stands out along her abdomen from the pole and the skin on her right shoulder is lightly scraped. Her right knee is swollen, along with her ankle.  
“You’ve blown your knee cap and sprained your ankle. Are there stairs back to the ground level?” She sits up, her right leg held up off the ground and stands up on one leg, using the staff as a crutch.  
“Stairs are caved in, it’s why the scaffold starts down here. I can climb it.” She hops slightly.  
“Whoa, wait! Wait!” He rushed in front of her and turns his back to her front, crouching slightly. “Climb on, I can get us both up.” She gives a small huff but settles on his back, both arms linking over his collar bones, so as not to choke him and her good leg around his waist.   
He makes the climb easily and waits for Yoseph to pull her up to the level. “Shit. That looks bad.” The man comments, stooping to give her knee the once over. “I’m going to get Mike. Drift, can you carry her to the rec room?” The man rushes off through the town, leaving Drift to lower a servo for Sam to climb on. He doesn’t start walking until she’s seated in his palm. And when they reach the rec room his holoform bridal carries her to the nearest sofa, stretching her across the length and then slipping into the space at her back so she’s leaning into him.  
“Why’s he getting Mike?” He asks, slipping an arm around her waist to keep her steady.  
“He’s our field medic.” She responds, face pinches in pain as she stretches her leg out.  
“Called it!” They both turn to the man as he strides into the room, a medical bag hooked over his shoulder. “Said your right leg was going to cause problems. But do you ever listen to me? No!” He draws out the last word, kneeling down by her legs and giving her knee a once over.  
“Shut it you.” She grouses. “You try living with mechanical parts and see if your body always integrates them.” Drift captures her waving hand and gives her a warning squeeze to keep still. Mike glances up with a secret smile.  
“I much prefer this one to your current one.” He comments secretly. He spends a length of time assessing her ankle and knee before resting some ice packs to the joints. “Ice it and rest it. Strap it up tomorrow and no fighting.”  
“That’s going to be a problem.” She murmurs. “I’ve got you all again tomorrow.”  
“So don’t spar with any of us. Put us through training verbally, not physically.” She mulls it over.  
“Have you got-“ a data pad is extended out to her. She takes it with a soft smile. For several minutes she pursues the tech. “How about I put you through your paces on the race circuit?”  
“Hmm, that just might work. I’m guessing it’s free?”  
“Not any more. I’ve booked it up for the whole day.” The pair high five.  
“Intelligence reports are loaded to your server by the way. You might as well review them while I put some dinner together.”  
“You’re a legend pet.” She smiles, pulling up the reports.  
“Intelligence reports?” Drift props his chin on her shoulder to view the pad.  
“We still have contacts throughout the world and have been paying them to report any movement. It’s better to keep some eyes out there for anything we miss.” They sit for a long spell going over the reports and discussing the implications of them.   
After she’s eaten eaten and Mike has left, they share stories of their pasts. “Why are you doing so much training with them?” He presses a kiss into her hair, nuzzling into her honey scent. Unlike most of the other Autobots, he didn’t know Sam before all this. And while all of their interactions were coloured by memories of her former self, his interactions were purely based on her character now.  
“They’re family. I need them to survive this. I need to give them the best chance to survive this.” She whispers, gaze distant. “When I was remade, a Decepticon, they made me human again. Made me care. Made me feel. I…I can’t bare to lose them. They are kin…siblings.”  
He rests his cheek into her hair and hums. “I understand.” He responds quietly. “Wing…Rodmius…Ratchet…Percy. They were…are my brothers. I’ve only got Ratchet left. And I wish I had done more to keep them safe. Trained harder to save them. Trained Percy and Roddy to better protect themselves. I understand.” He tightens his hold on her and feels her slip quietly into sleep. His spark aches to prevent her feeling this pain. He will help her keep them alive.

They wake the next morning tangled together, her torso resting over his, head pillowed over his spark and legs tangled together. They know the other is awake, but neither desire to move just yet.   
“I really should shower and dress.” She murmurs, nuzzling his chest.  
“Can I join?” He half jokes.  
“Boss Bot would get very jealous.” She pushes herself up, hands on either side of him. He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers caressing her cheek. “I don’t think he likes to share.” She sits up and swings her legs over the sofa, stretching her leg out.   
In a quick move he scoops her up into his lap and then stands up, holding her bridal style. “Shower, dress and then I’ll strap your knee and ankle.” He doesn’t miss the fact that she curls into his chest and rests a hand over his spark.  
Once showered and dressed she walks back into the room wearing one sock and her trousers draped over one shoulder.  
“You’re killing me.” He groans, dropping his head back into the pillow propped at her head board. She swings her leg into his lap and doesn’t comment on his caresses along her calf and foot. Once the bandages are fitted she pulls on her trousers and pushes her feet into her boots, not bothering to tie the laces. He watches her carefully as she walks, only noticing a slight limp as her pace quickens to limit the length of time her right leg bares her weight.   
He drives them both to the assassins chop shop, next door to the Autobot hangers. And then he follows her car as she drives out to the race track, a winding circuit designed to keep the speeders space to vent. They are the last pair to arrive, finding ten heads and their cars lined up on the start line.  
“You lost the inside line lass. Best of luck wiping the floor with us now.” Mike grins, stepping off from the bonnet of his mustang. Sam steps from her car with smooth motions, hyper aware of each head checking her knee and ankle out.  
“So…how many laps lady and gents?” She gives each car a glance over, trying to determine any faults.  
“Three laps to start off?” Alexander suggests, arms encircling Oki’s waist from behind, chin resting on her shoulder.  
“Sounds fair. Drift? Would you referee please?” Sam asks, one hand signally out of sight from the couple.  
They’ll tag team us. She warns the rest.  
“I would be delighted.” Drift grins, moving off the track and waiting for all drivers to buckle in. “Racers ready?” The revving of engines is his answer. “Steady…go!” Clouds of fumes and burning rubber rise up as every car roars off.   
The race is fast paced and dirty from the outset. Nine of the drivers target Oki and Alexander, knocking the pair to the back of the pack. But naturally, once the threat is nullified, the remaining nine turn dirty with each other.   
Drift is quite surprised as he figured Sam would be the better driver, but while she’s skilled and daring, there are a few others better than her. Four of the drivers get pushed away and bring up the rear for the rest of the race. Sam holds out for third place when Alexander charges to the front and wins. Darryl comes second and Mike in third.  
They exit their cars in excited chatter, sharing their experiences and play fighting. When suddenly some new cars tear onto the track and nearly plow into the group who dive out in different directions. Skids and Mudflap transform and glare down on the group.  
“Yo! This is our track squishies!”   
“Funny, because I booked the track for the day.” Sam states, Mike pulling her to her feet and holding her weight on her right.  
“Still our track! We’re going to show little ‘Bee what true racers look like.” A holoform suddenly appears next to Sam, hands grasping her right elbow with eyes locked on her raised right leg.  
“Hey little ‘Bee.” Sam murmurs, right hand grasping his arm.  
Drift storms onto the track, knocking the twins heads together. “You slaggers! You could have run them over.” He berates them.  
“You boys want the track? How about a race against us?” Mike asks them.  
Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Jolt walk towards the group, eyeing the crumpled younger twins. “Six on six sounds fun.” Jolt says, dancing excitedly on his peds.  
“I’m sure somebody is going to get hurt.” Ratchet walks from the other side, optics locking on Sam’s posture. “Or maybe somebody is already hurt.” He adds.  
Sam settles her foot back on the ground and bares her weight without displaying any pain. “Perfectly fine Ratch.” She states. “So you boys think you’re capable of racing my best? Have at it. Relay race?” 

Once the celebrations calmed down and the younger twins stopped pouting, the group migrated towards the gathered cars.  
Bottles of larger are passed around and the assassins settle over the bonnets of some of the cars. Darryl stretches across the windscreen on his back and lifts his arm out the way for Sam. She slides up the bonnet on her front and rolls, resting her head on the man’s thigh. She suddenly gives a jaw cracking yawn. Alof slithers up next to her and leans in closer, pecking a kiss to the tip of her nose. She scrunches her face and frowns.  
“Why do you always go for the nose.” She whines.   
“‘Cuz you’re cute.” He responds, resting his head on her shoulder and settling behind her.  
John rushes forward and leaps across the three of them. Shouts of protest rise from beneath the man as the three victims wriggle around to break free.  
Sam’s arms slide under John’s armpits and yank his arms back. Darryl and Alof slip out, kneeling on either side of the restrained man. They mercilessly begin tickling the man as he tries to roll off the bonnet.  
“To the rescue!” Alexander exclaims, tackling Darryl while Yoseph takes down Alof. Maden dives into the space next to Sam and begins fluttering his fingers over the back of her knee. She jolts with a shriek and tries to to wiggle away while holding John. Her legs kicking back and forth.  
“Fuck it!” She shouts out, releasing her hold on John. She tips the body off her, rolling John into Maden and throws herself off the car.  
As she pops back to her feet, both men untangle themselves and move in tandem towards her. She hops round on her left leg, spots Drift’s holoform and ducks behind him. She places a hand on each of his hips and turns him bodily, using him as a shield from both assassins. He can hear a breathless giggle from her next to his left ear, her cheek brushing the short hair on the side of his head.   
Both men dart forward, moving to opposite sides of Drift. The mech has enough presence of mind to register Sam’s hands suddenly pressing down on his shoulders. He locks his knees as she springs up into the splits and connects her feet with both mens’ chests.   
They both stumble back a few steps, keeping their feet. Sam vaults over Drifts head, landing on her feet before him. She takes a couple quick steps to her left and spins into the air with her feet, connecting under Maden’s chin and knocking him flat. John rushes up behind her when she lands and she hurricane ranas him, twisting about his body in a blur of motion and using the energy of the flashy move to tip him forwards and onto his back.   
Sam stands gracefully, wagging her finger at them both. She steps between them and extends a hand to both men.  
Mike sidles up behind her and wraps both hands about her waist, lifting her off her feet. He rotates her onto her stomach and throws her over one shoulder, her head hanging down his back.  
He slaps a hand on her backside, eliciting a squawk of indignation.  
“What did I say about fighting yesterday?” He tells her off, moving to her car and lays her down on the hood.  
“And what did I say about smacking my arse?!” She shrieks, slapping his shoulder playfully.   
Several of the mechs around the group chuckle at the view of the group’s interactions. Bumblebee and Ratchet in particular become brightened to see this playful side of Sam.   
Drift had previously noticed this behaviour from her interactions with the other assassins. But he certainly sees the familiarity between the combined group more clearly in this instant. He wanders if this is the first time the ‘Bots are seeing the true Sam, the more cheeky and mischievous woman.  
Sitting up, the woman obediently throws her right leg into Mike’s lap when the man sits down. The man tugs off her boot and gives the bandage on her ankle a brief glance while manipulating her foot. He then pushes her trouser leg up and strokes over her knee. Massaging the muscles around her knee, she leans back down on her elbow with a grimace on her face.   
Yoseph slides under her back and she drops her head onto his chest. Oki slides next to her and rests her head on her stomach, which prompts Alexander to do the same on the other side.  
“Darryl? Throw me my bag.” Mike asks, thumbs digging deep into the muscles about her knee. The bag is placed next to him and he rummages inside, extracting a long metal and fabric item.  
Sam suddenly sits up, waving her hand frantically. “Hell no! You are not caging my knee.”   
“It keeps your muscles in place while your nanites heal the tears.” He argues.  
“I fucking hate that thing! You are not putting it on me.” The man tucks her ankle under his arm, holding her in place. He rummages again in the bag, the knee brace resting in his lap. He extends two objects out before her, causing her to narrow her eyes.  
“Have you been pillaging my room again?” Sam accuses.  
“You’ve always got the good stuff.” He wiggles the lolly pop at her.  
“Alcohol first.” She huffs, eyeing the hip flask in his other hand. He willingly hands it over and watches as she opens it and takes a long swig. She then places it down next to her and leans forward, waiting until Mike has removed the wrapper. She opens her mouth and takes the candy, pulling the stick from his hand.  
Lowering back onto her elbows, she leans her head back onto Yoseph and slides the stick from one side of her lips to the other. Mike pulls her trouser leg down and fits the knee brace in place, patting her thigh once done.  
He slips off the hood and dumps the bag into his car boot, retrieving another item and returning. He extends the guitar to her, holding it reverently. She chuckles and sits up, nudging the couple from her abdomen to spin on her backside and take the offered instrument.  
She dips into her knee pocket on her good leg and pulls a number of thin rings from within. She places the ring on to the tips of her fingers, pushing them to the first knuckle where they fit snuggly.   
Drift sits next to her and eyes the rings on each fore, middle finger and thumb.   
She gives him a grin and slips the lolly from her lips. “My signature weapon is also a good pick for this.” She flexes her fingers and the three rings unwind, forming around the tip on her right hand. Solid metal talons form off the end of her fingers and thumb, wickedly sharp and deadly. Drift leans in close to study them, a curious frown on his face.  
“Hook them through the jugular and pull. Very handy when in covert close quarters hits.”  
Slipping the lolly back in her mouth she plucks at the strings and shifts her left fingers down the neck.   
The group settle on the cars in a circle, Sam’s hip flask passed around to each present. They talk and reminisce, sharing laughs and stories. The Autobots settle quickly in the relaxed atmosphere, distantly watching the sun disappear from the sky.


	12. An assassin’s party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam tries to ease the tension between NEST and the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to being tied up with Coroner’s court all week, I’m gifting you a double chapter.

It’s a testament to the adaptation of Nest that it becomes the norm in seeing the new assassin team regularly training.   
Some of the mercenaries join NEST in their training runs. Some of the Autobot Holoforms take to joining unarmed and armed practices that are carried out. But tension still exists between the two fractions, NEST soldiers still look on suspicious of the assassins and some toes get trod on.  
Sam and Will are both getting annoyed with breaking up arguments and fights, to the point that both teams are separated to their respective barracks for nearly a week. But Sam comes up with an idea and sets her team to work one day in the abandoned town.  
Several posters are put up in the mess hall, rec room and Autobot hanger, just appearing one morning without any person seen placing them up.  
“The Rebel Line hereby invite you to the dark party on Saturday night at 9pm in the town square. Please join us to relax and unwind.” Epps reads out loud.   
“Sounds like an olive branch.” Ratchet comments.  
“Alcohol and music? You sure it’s a good idea?” Lennox questions.  
“It’ll either ease the tension or tear us apart.” Epps laughs. “I’m up for an assassins party. They train hard and I bet they party harder.” He wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis.  
“You do realise Oki is in a relationship with Alexander.” Lennox teases.   
“I know that!” He grumbles. “But Kristy man! That right there is a sex goddess.” One of the female captains behind Epps rolls her eyes and tuts at him. 

At 9pm the NEST soldiers and Autobot holoforms are gathered in the hanger waiting for their escort to the party. Sam slips into the hanger, allowing her high heels to click out across the concrete so as not to startle anyone. Orion locks onto her and chews his lip at the sight of her. She’s wearing short denim shorts and a cropped strap top, displaying her toned midriff. A fitted military jacket covers her torso and three inched stiletto shoes finish the ensemble.  
She makes a beeline to Prime and slips an arm around his back, tucking in close to his side. Her other hand rests on his broad chest, fingering his dress shirt button. His fingers capture her chin and he ducks down to press a kiss to her lips. She hums at the contact, pulling away slowly and peering up through her lashes.  
Reluctantly breaking from his heated gaze, she sweeps the room. “Everyone ready?” A chorus of yeses is her response.   
She untangles herself from Prime and interlocks their fingers. “Then your party awaits.”   
The group stare at the town square decked out in bare hanging bulbs that produce a dim light over the open space. The ground has been swept and a section of the stone smoothed down to create a sturdy dance floor. A platform has been built for the band, a huge array of instruments are spread throughout the space and a DJ box stands to the side. A bar stands in front of a building shell, chairs, tables and sofas scattered both inside and out the structure.  
Sam strides out towards the assassins stood before the bar, releasing Optimus hand to carry out the next part. She stops a few feet from their line and raises her hands above her head, palms facing outwards. She brings her arms down and out in a graceful arc and bows low, exposing the back of her neck to the assassins. “Rebel Line, may I have the pleasure of introducing the NEST armed forces.” Standing straight she sweeps an arm wide to present NEST.   
She then repeats the same bow to NEST. “NEST, may I present your newest members, the Rebel Line. May we unite and achieve our end goals as family. Please join us for a toast.” The assassins break their line, crossing into the NEST group and hand out shot glasses. Sam approaches Optimus and Lennox, handing them each a glass before raising hers up in toast.   
“May we unite as family, to serve and protect each other. To family!” She shouts out, receiving an answer in return. Everyone knocks back their drinks and the assassins start up the music. The crowds mix quickly and the tension bleeds out. 

Optimus and Ironhide are sharing a small sofa, joining the conversation around the low coffee table. Their group is a mixture of Autobots, NEST soldiers and assassins, sharing battle stories. Sam appears in Optimus’ peripheral and he moves to give her the seat. A firm hand on his shoulder keeps him in place and she steps past his legs before settling in his lap, a hand curling into the hair on the back of his head. He winds an arm around her waist and splays his hands against her stomach.   
“You make me sick.” John grouses across from them.  
“You’ve just missed your shot with Kristy.” She responds.  
Lennox rocks forward laughing his ass off. Everyone except Sam gives him a frown. Sam and Lennox lean forward and slap hands, sharing a secret smile.  
The group talk amongst themselves for another ten minutes before Mike cuts the music and taps his microphone for attention.  
“I have just received a rather unusual request with a persons song choice.” He quickly scans the crowd. “Oki? Sam? Somebody has made a request for a re-enactment of your Newcastle-Upon-Tyne mission. Specifically your joint dance to the song Scream & Shout by Will. I. Am.” Sam drops her face into her hand, shaking her head. She slowly sits up and looks around at the crowd, spotting Oki standing at the bar. She waves the other woman over and then startles ‘Hide and Prime by slipping a knee between each of their legs and leaning up over the back of the sofa, her breasts pressing into their shoulders as she rests against them. Oki crouches over the back of the sofa and leans in close allowing Sam to talk into her ear. Both mechs are the only ones to hear them.  
“It’s obviously Mike who’s requesting this. I’ve got an idea.”  
“Go on.” Oki smiles.  
“Glasgow, Lucifer’s pit.” Oki releases a loud laugh in responds, placing both hands on the woman’s face and pulls back. She places a swift kiss to Sam’s lips.  
“Genius girl!”   
Sam boosts up and turns, sitting on the back of the sofa and Oki wraps her arms around her waist, dropping her chin onto Sam’s shoulder.  
“On one condition Mike.” She shouts over. “You, Demetrius, Darryl and Scott have to reenact Lucifer’s Pit, Glasgow!” Both women start giggling along with several of the assassins.  
Three men suddenly rush the stage and huddle around Mike. Everyone waits a tense minute when the four men turn back with cool looks.  
“Deal!” Mike announces, sending the assassins into cheers.   
Sam leans down to Optimus ear and whispers “Enjoy the show.”   
She rolls backwards off the sofa landing gracefully and strips her jacket off, dropping it into Prime’s lap. Both women join hands and walk over towards the two scaffolders poles that had been left standing erect next to the stage.  
“For one night only, I give you the infamous dance of the Deadly Duo.” Mike announces and starts the song up.  
Both woman stand before a pole, facing each other and swiftly climb the pole using their hands and feet. Near the top they stop and hug the pole with their thighs and slowly lean back, arching in half and grabbing the pole beneath with their hands. They slowly straighten out into a flag pole before righting and gripping the pole with their thighs again. With a quick spin to their lefts, they jump the gap and catch the opposing pole, swapping sides.  
Oki climbs higher as Sam stretches a leg across the gap and places the toe of her shoe into the pole. Shifting her weight forward she stretches between the pole in the splits and hangs in the space. She places her palms together in front of her chest and holds the pose. Oki steps down onto her shin and crosses her thigh, placing her other foot onto the opposite thigh, balancing on top of Sam, shimmying her hips erotically.  
She steps off and grabs the pole and Sam grasps the other, swinging herself out while still in the splits pose. With a flick she plants both feet on the pole and they adjust their holds, stretching out into another flag pole pose and then move their feet so they look like they are walking while slowly turning.  
One full rotation and they plant their feet again, pulling their knees up to their chests. As the beat drops they push off from the pole into a backwards springboard, hands touching the stage and flipping several times backwards.   
In sync they stop at the edge of the stage, cartwheel to the front and tuck into a spin that puts them both onto the dance floor. Several flips, twists and turns puts them into the middle of the dance floor.  
Sam skids onto her side as Oki flips over the top of her and then both descend into a choreographed fight where they flip, jump and dodge each other.   
Throughout all of this Optimus is transfixed. He knew she was skilled, he’d seen the few videos of her assassinations when she worked for the Decepticons. Had bore witness to her skills during her training with both the Autobots and the Rebel Line. But this was something else entirely different. This was a testament to her seduction skills and he wasn’t the only one turned on by this. A part of his processor was also noting the reactions of the NEST soldiers, assassins and Autobots.   
He paid particular notice to Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Skids, Mudflap and Bumblebee, his five youngest, who are gathered at the side of the dance floor and are transfixed on Sam in particular.   
Sam and Oki suddenly break from their choreographed dance/fight and sprint up to the stage where Mike, Darryl, Scott and Demetrius are gathered. Both ladies leap between each pair, catching their ankles on one male and arms on another. With a practiced spin they send each pair twisting into the dance floor and sprawl the men on their backs. The four lie stunned.  
Oki and Sam exchange a high five and share a tight hug as the crowd roar in laughter. Both ladies step apart, link hands and bow together for the crowd who applaud them.   
The second they both stepped off the stage, the five young Autobots swamp both females, trapping them into a hug.   
“That was the greatest prank ever!” Sideswipe crows.   
“That was amazing.” Bumblebee compliments them both, giving Sam a tight hug from behind. Sam leans back into his hold and reaches up, brushing her fingers through the holoform’s hair. Oki settles between Skids and Mudflap, sandwiched between the pair.   
Sam turns in ‘Bee’s hold and wraps her arms about his waist, tilting her head back to see the mech. “Enjoy?” She asks with a cocky tone in her voice.  
“Loved it.” He purrs in response, gazing at her with darkened eyes.   
Ironhide suddenly reaches out and grasps Prime’s arm, stopping the older mech from rising. He leans toward the mech, lowering his voice. “Prime, you know those six are close with each other.” He means the five mechs and Sam. “Don’t look at it as anything other than friends.” He warns his leader. Prime shoots him a dark look but doesn’t voice his thoughts. He’s so caught up in his staring contest that he misses the group’s approach towards them.  
Sam drops down into Optimus’ lap, wrapping both arms around the mechs neck, subtly pulling his head away from Ironhide. She shoots ‘Hide an indiscernible glance before forcing Prime’s head around to face her. He possessively winds his arms around her and draws her into a heated kiss. Several eyebrows are raised at his actions, having never seen Prime initiate such a intimate touch before.  
She spends the rest of the night in his lap until they both slip away in the early hours.


	13. Chapter 13

Epps sits with a massive grin on his face while eating his breakfast. Bob sits next to him with his head resting on the table, looking green around the gills. Lennox takes the seat opposite the pair with a bemused look on his face.

“Morning!” Epps chirps.

“Not so loud.” Bob whimpers.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” They turn to see Sam strolling in in her workout gear, Optimus’ holoform next to her. They stop just inside the canteen. “You took me on a mission, why not them? They’re as skilled as I am.” She gesticulates with her hands. Optimus scrubs his face in frustration.

“We took you on the mission because there were humans involved. We won’t be taking you on Decepticon missions.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Her tone is like ice. “You take NEST with you.”

“Because they have been trained to take on Decepticons with us.” He explains calmly.

“And you’re assuming my lot haven’t been trained? Fine, I’ll make you a bet. A training mission. My lot versus your lot, out in the abandoned town. You pick the numbers for each side and when we win you’ll eat your own words.” The cocky persona returns with a fold of her arms.

“And when we win you’ll drop this nonsense.” He rumbles.

“Deal. How many do you want involved?”

“Four Autobots versus your whole force. You’ll need them.” She snorts.

“Rules of engagement?”

“Non-lethal. Shock rounds only.”

“Hope you’re ready to eat your words Prime.” She smirks. “1000hrs tomorrow – you’re going down.” She spins away from him and moves over to the assassin’s table, leaning forward to talk quietly with those present. Optimus has a face of thunder as he exits the room.

“What the hell just happened?” Epps asks out loud. The other two just shake their heads.

The four Autobots move into the town keeping in sight of each other. Bumblebee, Ironhide, Jolt and Prowl turn their scanners around the town trying to pick up the human signals within.

Lennox and Epps, far enough away from the town, log onto the two comms systems to listen in. The NEST soldiers not on duty crowd in closer on the scaffold, Autobots gathering behind them.

“‘Hide? I’m not getting any hits on the scanner.” Jolt answers. Ironhide glances over before focusing back on the town.

“Keep your optics peeled.” He answers gruffly.

They move past the first block of the town when suddenly the assassins comms clicks on. Three taps are heard on the line and nothing else. Lennox and Epps frown at each other and raise their binoculars up.

“Over there.” Graham suddenly whispers, pointing in one direction, everyone swings to look. A dark figure suddenly shifts on one of the roofs, stepping slightly out of the shadows. Sam turns to the scaffold and gives a cocky salute before disappearing out of sight.

“How are my scanners not picking her up?” Q asks. Two taps sound over the comms and movement is spotted over the roof behind Jolt. As the other three ‘Bots pass one of the taller buildings, blocking their view of Jolt, several of the figures throw flash bangs towards Jolt’s helm. He turns to the movement and instantly is blinded. Staggering back he rubs blindly at his optics.

Two figures jump up on his shoulders and race towards his throat, slapping two small disks in place and flip off him. A beat later a charge races throughout his body and he keels over into the street.

The dark figures vanish when Ironhide charges around the building and stares dumbly at Jolt.

“What the slag!” Ironhide shrieks. Another flash of electricity sparks behind the building and Prowl falls over into view. Bumblebee rushes out, overlooking the movement around his peds until the wires tighten and several small disks slip beneath his back amour, frying his circuitry.

His frozen form eyes Sam standing on the roof of the building extending a grappling gun aimed at Ironhide as he stomps round the corner. The gun launches a wire over the mechs head just as several flash bangs erupt around his helm. Sam wraps a wire over the grappling wire and jumps, riding the wire through the bright lights and smoke blinding ‘Hide. Dropping onto his shoulder she baseball slides under his armour while he swipes ineffectively at the light touch on his shoulder. His systems start sparking at his throat and he clutches it uselessly, before toppling over across ‘Bee’s legs.

A rope snakes down to ‘Hide’s chest from above and Sam pulls herself out from a crack in between his plating. She fits her foot into the loop of the rope and grips it with one hand, giving both ‘Bots a cheeky salute before rising into the air.

The audience of NEST soldiers applaude loudly at the final putdown, some satisfied to have the tables turned on their Cybertronian colleagues. Prime is locked on the sight of Mike resting an arm around Dark Angel’s shoulders, pulling her into the taller males side.

“Autobots! Move in.” The crowd goes quiet and Lennox turns to the big guy.

“Wait! Think about this Prime!” Optimus just gives the Major a dark look and turns to face his team.

“Roll out!” He barked. The Autobots transform and speed towards the concrete structures. 

”Prime’s locked me out!” Epps shouts up to Lennox.

“Underground mission is a go.” Lennox hears over the comm.

“kid planned for this.” He announces, causing everyone to raise their binoculars up again.

The Autobots split into four teams, entering the town from different points and chasing the assassins towards the centre.

“Prime, their numbers have diminished. I am unable to track them.” Ratchet reports.

“Target the leaders.” He orders, following Dark Angel’s retreat in the direction he hoped. He had also lost track of Striker.

Dark Angel jumps off the building a head of him and rolls into the centre of the town. Several of her colleagues are chased into the square, Autobots transforming and circling them.

Sam stops her run and turns to face Prime, a snarl behind her mask.

“Whether they be man or mech, you all think with your second brains!” She snaps. The Autobots clear the buildings and box the team of eight until they are back to back with each other.

Sam drops her arm down with a shake of the wrist a small cylindrical object drops out her sleeve and into her hand. She slowly raises her arm, giving a cocky salute and presses the button on the device.

Several things happen at once. The crane above their heads bursts into activity, people on wires dropping off the structure. The team of eight assassins sprint to a stack of cars to their right, using the objects to launch midway to their colleagues dropping down. And an explosion of dust circles the gathered Autobots, the street giving way beneath them.

The ‘bots have barely impacted the lower sewer system before everyone of them are caught in the electroshock weapons, imitating high explosive rounds. Optimus manages to flop his helm back to see Striker hanging by a wire with his arms gripping Sam’s and holding her from a fall.

She releases one arm to flip Prime the bird before they all get pulled up to the crane.

 

That night Prime stands in the doorway of the hanger, the rest of his team have turned in for the night, but he couldn’t recharge. He gazes across to the assassins quarters, watching their celebration on the roof bar.

His eye sight can make out Sam in shorts and a strap top singing on the raised stage, her voice carries to his audios and he vents another sigh.

She had refused to speak with him or any of the Autobots. She knew fine well they were following orders, following his orders. But she was clearly still pissed at him and by default, the whole team.

“She still not talking to you?” He turns to see Lennox on the roof behind him and activates his holoform to speak with the Major.

“She is…understandably angry with me.” He admits.

“I have a feeling she’s going to be angry for a while.” Lennox muses. Optimus nods his agreement, folding his arms and looking back to the assassins roof. “Give her some space. Your green eyed monster took over today. You need to reign it in.” Optimus takes a moment to look up green eyed monster. He sighs again.

“You are right. I just…find it difficult to watch her interactions with other males. The Sam I first met was a lot more shy in interacting with males. She is more touchy feely in comparison. I still struggle to not feel threatened by that aspect of her.”

“Well you’ll have to get used to it Prime. It’s that or let her go entirely.” Even contemplating that idea hurt his spark.

“You don’t need to feel threatened by me.” Both men physically jump at the voice. A second later Mike steps out of the shadows behind them. “Back then we were exactly what each other needed. She needed human contact and release. I needed someone to put me back together. But now? We’re family. We care for each other a lot, but it wouldn’t work now. You brought her sanity back. You saved her soul. You also have her heart in exchange. Men and mechs, we’re too stupid to realise when we have a good thing.

I know you think me a threat, but I’m not. She’s yours Prime. She hasn’t been mine for a long time. And I’m ok with that. So tomorrow I’m going to take her out on the sniper range so she can vent. And then you’re going to come along, apologise and I’ll make myself scarce.”

Mike holds out a hand and Optimus grasps it, giving a single shake before letting it go. The man nods to both males and turns away, slipping back into the shadows. He pauses on the edge, turning so they can just see the man’s face.

“Oh and Prime? Hurt her again and I’ll make sure your Spark Chamber is surrounded by C4 and detonated. And they’ll never prove I did it. Understand?” The shadows swallow him whole.

“Now that is a shovel talk!” Lennox quips next to Optimus. Prime graces him with a dark glare that sends the man into outright laughter. “Sorry big guy, but you deserved everything she’s thrown at you. And the best bit is, you’ve been so focused on her former lover that you’ve overlooked somebody more recent than him.” Optimus frowns at the man.

“After Mike she was in a relationship with Oki.” The man bursts out laughing at the holoforms face.

 

Optimus and Ironhide walk across the open plane, heading towards the specialist firing range.

The range is built into a cliff on the edge of the base. Originally the large hill had been at the perimeter of the base, but the fences had been moved out to include the natural monument.

Typically the humans used that section of the range as it gave them a high spot to take shots from. Prime and Ironhide approach the scaffold where the spectators are placed. Those spectators also control the clay pigeons.

“Prime? ‘Hide?” One of the assassins greets them. “What can I do for you?”

“Mike invited us along to join them today.”

“Oh, O.K. sir. Please go ahead.” He waves towards the range. From their position they can make out the ten leaders lined up on the cliff ledge. “We’re using the Clays today.” The man warns them.

“Sam has also been restricted with her weapon.”

“What distance are they at?” Ironhide asks, curious of the game.

“One thousand yards sir.”

“I don’t believe many humans have succeeded at that distance.”

“They are the reported successes. We have several capable of making that distance.” ‘Hide just grunts and moves across the range, Prime trailing after him.

Most of the leaders are stretched out on their fronts, looking through their rifle scopes. Sam is leaning against the cliff wall with a Smith & Weston raised to her shoulders.

“Pull!” Alexander barks out. The spectators launch a clay pigeon out in an arch and the man lines up the shot. The clay shatters into pieces. Each take a turn and then Sam makes her shot, without the use of a scope.

“This is so unfair.” John grumbles.

“Yeah your optic gives you an unfair advantage.” Darryl agrees.

“Hey! I’m using a rifle without a scope here!” Sam argues back.

“How about we blind fold you?” Yoseph suggests.

“I wouldn’t make that shot blind folded at that distance.”

“Fine, six hundred yards.” Mike chips in. “But no guns.” Everyone give the man a funny glance. “Your throwing blade.”

“Five hundred yard. I can’t throw a blade past that distance”

“Deal!” Oki cheers.

“Place your bets people.” Sam grins. The group lay down several items in the middle of the ledge. Sam moves forward and rests her gun against the wall. “I need one clay to track and I’ll make the throw on the second clay.”

The group agree and Darryl relays the instructions over a radio to the spectators. Sam is wearing her desert fatigues with a cap pulled over her eyes. Mike stands over her, pulling a roll of bandages from his vest pockets. He wraps the bandage around her eyes and head.

“Can I spin you?” He asks cheekily.

“Hell no, you’d walk me off the ledge to win.” She laughs back, pulling one of her throwing blades from her hidden pockets.

Optimus and Ironhide stand to the side of the ledge to watch.

“Quiet on the range!” Sam bellows, pausing for people to comply. “Pull!” She raises her arm over her shoulder and behind her with the blade gripped in her hand.

The clay launches out across the range. Sam blindly follows the clay, her head following the motion. After the clay crashes down she shouts for the next. Her blade sails over the space and shatters the clay pigeon.

She pulls the bandage off with a wide grin on her face. “Pay up bitches!” She celebrates.

“You asked for me Mike?” Ironhide enquires.

“‘Hide! Yes we’re looking at a new design for our heavy weapons. I would appreciate your input. Also we need to mass produce our bio-blockers, it’s how we tricked your scans the other day.” Mike hurries to the ledge to speak with the mech.

“Well you’ve cleaned us out Sam.” Oki sneers, linking arms with Alexander. “I’m calling it quits.” The two move to the set of ropes, each carrying their sniper rifles on their backs.

“We’re gonna join ‘Hide.” Yoseph waves a hand to the remaining leaders. The group rush off quickly.

“You bastards! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re playing at!” Sam berates them as Ironhide walks off covered in assassin leaders.

Sam huffs and crosses her arms, a pout on her face.

“I’ve come to apologise.” Optimus explains stepping closer. “My actions were regrettable.”

“Look, I know you still mourn for the old me, but you have to accept me as I am now. And that includes being close to my Rebel Line. You have to deal with it.”

“You are correct. I allowed my own possessiveness to interfere in your life. I shall endeavour to control that.” Sam opens her mouth and quickly closes it with a click.

“Please speak your mind.” She sighs.

“I was going to say that you and your brother are very much a like.” Prime frown, stepping back as through a punch had been thrown. “He used to get jealous of my closeness with my team. Although he handled my hugging them or carrying on differently. The difference is you turn your jealousy towards those other people. He would turn his anger on me.” She gives him a sad smile.

“I’m sorry.” Optimus rumbled, stepping closer.

“I can’t change my ways. I can’t change my nature of being close with the people I work with. It’s you that needs to change.”

“I never knew Megatron was that way with you.” His holoform appears next to her.

“There’s a lot you don’t know.” She murmurs, rubbing distractedly at the side of her throat. Optimus reaches out and gently pulls her hand away, eyeing the scarring.

“Show me.” His voice is gentle. She shakes her head and goes to speak. “Please, if I know the true extend of your past under his…command, I will understand how not to behave in such a way.”

She sighs and drops her gaze, raising her right hand next to her head with her palm turned out. A flex of her fingers alights a digital screen before her.

Optimus turns to view the video. It’s recorded from a security camera, ultra high resolution.

_Sam steps out into a dull metal corridor, bowing her head to each human who exits out. The humans are a mix of races, elders exiting first followed by their assistants and adult children._

_These are the heads of the families. Prime spots Yoseph and John, Alexander and then Oki. Oki exits last, resting a gentle hand against Sam’s arm._

_“Be careful Oki.” Sam warns the younger woman, gently extracting the hand. “My master was most unpleased the last time.” The younger woman nods miserably. She goes to turn away but Sam spins her back, pulling her into an intense kiss._

_“I’m doing this to protect you.” She whispers, stroking her face. “I care for you too much to have him harm you. It has to end Oki.” The woman tears out of her grip and runs down the corridor after her family. “Stay safe.” Sam whispers after she’s vanished from view._

_She turns in the other direction and navigates the corridors with familiarity. Something small runs towards her on many legs, leaps up onto her front and scampers beneath her hair, stretching across her shoulders to stay hidden._

_The echo of heavy steps comes ahead of her and she flicks her hair to cover the Mini Cassette fully. Continuing on in her confident stride she nods respectfully at Soundwave as he rounds the corner._

_“Where is designation Scalpel?” He demands of her._

_“Eh? He took off that way to the labs.” The ‘Con steps over her and stomps off. “You’re welcome.” She mutters, continuing on._

_She eventually stops beside one of the many doors, checks around her and leans her shoulder into the door. It swings open slightly and she pulls her hair aside. Scalpel scurries down her shoulder._

_“Keep out of trouble.” She warns him, allowing him a quick hug before he jumps and disappears into the room._

_“Alpha One! To my quarters – now!” She hunches her shoulders slightly, takes a fortifying breath and hurries onwards._

_She stops at a very large door, passing a hand over a scanner to open it. She slips inside the large office space and stands to attention._

_Megatron leans over his desk and stares down upon her. Her eyes briefly glance up before affixing ahead._

_“Sir? The meeting has gone well and the African family will-“ she chokes off when a holoform lights up before her and grabs her throat._

_The male throws her backwards into the door and uses the solid structure to lift her off her feet. She grips the hand and arm, trying to prise it loose._

_The male stands at 6’2”, broad shoulders and chest. He’s pale to the point of almost being albino, if not for the short sheered, black hair. His dark brown eyes glow faintly red._

_“Why do you continue to test me, pet?” He snarls into her face, the unmistakable voice of Megatron._

_She chokes helplessly, mouthing words she’s unable to voice. With a growl Megatron turns and throws her at his desk. She hits the metal horizontally, shoulder first and drops to the floor. Her chest heaves in great gasps of air._

_“Master…please I…I don’t –“ he kicks her in the face, knocking her head into the desk._

_“Don’t lie to me whore!” He roars over her. She presses backwards, trying to distance herself. “You touch them, hug them. Laugh and joke with them. You’re mine! Do you understand? Mine!”_

_“Yes Sir.” Her voice is almost a whimper. “Yes master.”_

_Blood stains her lips and teeth, red fingerprints standing out on her throat. He swoops down upon her, claiming her in a rough kiss. Her arms come around his shoulders. Tearing away he back hands her, sending her sprawling back to the ground._

_“Clean yourself up and then return. You clearly need to be taught your place.” He cancels the holoform and she staggers to her feet, rushing for the door._

The video stops and Prime watches her. She has that thousand yard stare again, fingers giving off the faintest of tremors.

He steps closer and gently touches her cheek, she flinches and clenches her eyes. He maintains his touch until she focuses on him.

“I understand now. I’m so sorry.” His face displays his anguish.

“You can not be held responsible for his own actions.” He nods, slowly lowering down and capturing her in a soft and gentle kiss. She melts into his hold.


	14. The gory truth of being an assassin

Smokescreen and Sam set the facial recognition trackers for all members of the assassin family that Sam has visual records for. They keep the software running to track their movements throughout the world. Forty eight hours later and they receive their first mass movement.  
Sam stands in front of the screen in the large meeting room, looking up into the rising seats around her.  
“We are tracking them travelling through South America heading for the American border. This canyon is our best bet.” She points out a road that cuts through a deep canyon. “Now we suspect they have a Decepticon envoy travelling with them. This means any detection of Autobots with us and our element of surprise is lost. However putting the Autobots at the exit of the canyon should draw them ahead, leaving the convoy to us. We are going to use the canyon walls to our advantage to stop the convoy and put them down.”   
She walks the gathered soldiers, assassins and Autobots through her plan. The Central American and South American assassins would be involved in this one.

“They’re ten miles from the canyon.” Ironhide reports in.  
“We need to move. See you guys at the end.” Sam waves down to them, balanced on the edge and winding her climbing rig back up.  
The assassins disappear from sight, running for the deep trench in the middle. The Autobots and NEST soldiers drive off for the other opening where they’ll draw the Decepticons to. They listen to the activity over the comms.   
“Twelve on the ground on either side. Twelve up on the ridge. Spread out here.” Sam commands. When the last person is in place she speaks again. “Going dark.” She instructs and everything goes quiet.  
Half an hour later two taps sound over the comm, indicating the Decepticon alt modes driving past their location.  
“This is it people.” Lennox shouts, spreading his forces out. Just as the Decepticons rise to their true form the echoes of gunfire tear through the canyon behind them and the Autobots line up to take down the bottle necked Decepticons.

When the convoy of South American forces reach the middle rank of assassins all guns get pointed their way and rain down a hail of fire, puncturing tyres and breaking windows. The forces not contained in cabins are quickly turned into bloody corpses. Those in the cabins are pressed clear of windows, trying to return fire.   
Explosive devices take out the roof of each vehicle and then Dark Angel drops into the middle of the destruction, fixed on one vehicle in particular. She leans down and grabs an ankle from beneath the chassis dragging a small man out into the sun. The man scrabbles trying to stop her and she swings him out to nearest wall of the canyon. He impacts it with his back and screams at the top of his lungs when Dark Angel sticks her Katana through his shoulder.  
“Hello Carl.” She purrs, jabbing a long knife into his other shoulder. “Now where were you guys off to in such a hurry?”  
“Bite me bitch!” He tries to dig fingers into her neck but she grabs his thumb and snaps the joint out of place, eliciting a howl of pain.  
“Wrong answer. I’m limited on time and you know what I’m capable of. I’ll end it quickly if you tell me why and where your whole team are running off to.”   
“Alpha please! Please just let me go.” She raises a smaller blade to his temple and slowly drags it across his forehead, grinning at his pained gasps. “Ah – Fine! Fine! They’re trying to pull us all together. Get a larger force together –“ he breaks off when she slashes down his cheek.  
“Why?” She asks softly.   
“Because you’re a threat! You know enough about us so we need to come together.” He sobs.  
“Where?”  
“Texas! Then strike the base, burn you out…” she moves forward and trails her tongue along his cheek and through his blood.  
“Good boy.” She purrs into his ear.  
“Sam!” She glances over her shoulder at Lennox on Optimus’ shoulder. “That’s enough.” The Major warns her.  
With a quick flash of her blade and a grin the man’s entrails slopped out on his feet. “Now it’s enough.” She taunts stepping back to take in her handy work. Pulling her blades free she backs away until he stops moving.   
On the return trip, NEST and some of the Autobots actively avoid the assassins. The reaction continues back at the base and splits the fractions once more until new movement in the Middle East puts all the leaders back around the table.

The eleven assassin heads enter the room five minutes past the start time, receiving scowls from everybody stood around the platform or seated at the table. They stop behind their chairs on the opposite side of the table but remain standing.  
“Hands up who’s ever faced off against any member of the assassin’s families, outside of training?” Sam suddenly asks. Everyone stares at her as each of the heads raise a hand. “No one else? Colour me surprised.”  
“What’s the point of this Sam?” Ratchet asks.  
“Humour me doc. How many have ever been tortured by a family member?” Again the eleven heads are the only hands raised. “We know exactly what they would do to us and we respond in kind. You might not understand that but we know it perfectly. We aren’t soldiers and we aren’t special agents. We are killers and we are torturers. We can’t – won’t change that. If you can’t accept that then we need to cut ties and part ways.” The table is silent as everyone exchanges glances.  
“I don’t think that is-“ Ratchet starts.  
“That may be the only option.” Optimus cuts in, optics locked on Sam. The NEST and Autobot’s turn as one to stare open mouthed at Prime. “Let us figure out the Middle East and finalise a decision later.”  
Sam nods with a blank face and sits down. She doesn’t contribute for the rest of the meeting.

Each four person team enters the desert town at the appointed time, climbing into barren buildings unseen and setting up to watch and report their findings. In exactly two hours the Autobots will cross the ten mile perimeter of the town with the bulk of their forces. In that two hour gap, Yoseph and Sam’s team will observe and record the activity within the abandoned town, ensuring their forces have all the data for the up coming fight.   
The second Sam had set foot within the town, her gut instinct started clawing at her conscious mind, trying to warn her about something. She presses herself against the wall beneath the third storey window, listening to the movement of the assassins beneath her.  
“Something’s wrong.” She whispers, breaking radio silence.  
A warning tap sounds over the comms. Her partner shoots her a glance, but she holds her gaze on the floor, turning inwards to listen to her subconscious. “Something’s off.” She whispers again.  
She slowly turns each of her Cybertronian functions back on, using them to scan her surroundings. First her enhanced hearing picks up the hum of sparks in the town, the gears of an unseen Cybertronian. Her frequency scanner picks up Cybertronian voices. Her EMP field detects many Cybertronians in the vicinity. And finally her enhanced eyes lock on to several packages wired into all of the building.  
“It’s a trap! Get out the buildings!” She roars, too late as every explosive device detonates. Sam has enough presence of mind to throw herself out the window, landing in a crouch in the middle of the street. But her desert team are not enhanced like her and simply couldn’t clear the building fast enough, getting caught in the collapse of each structure. Their cries of surprise and pain assault her over the comms.  
“Sam!” Optimus breaks across the system.  
“They’re trapped.” She calls back. “Enemy forces are moving to their locations.” Optimus catches onto the plan running through her mind, knowing her character well enough to predict exactly what she’s thinking.  
“Sam!” He roars. She stands to her feet and places her fingers into her mouth, giving off a shrill whistle. Her optic starts detecting the state of her trapped team throughout the town, sending the information in a data burst down the Autobot links in her system.  
“Come on bitches! You missed your star prize!” She sprints down the street, leaping over the rubble spilling into her path. The shouts of her pursuers come from every direction.   
Pulling both her Katanas from her back she lashes out at the men tearing out of the side streets. Near the town square she skids to a stop finding every exit out of the square blocked, Deceptions standing behind to seal off her retreat should she make it through the humans.   
“The hard way then.” She mutters, racing into the thick of it. Her blades spray blood in every direction, but before too long they are ripped from her grasp. So she fights with her fists and feet, taking as many bodies down with her.   
A metal bar knocks her down and they swarm over her, gripping her arms in their painful grasps. She’s on her knees, pulled back with her arms spread wide. She looks up as Megatron steps into view.  
“It’s time to return home Alpha One.” They pull her arms back further, forcing her to look up. “They will enjoy the data disc I leave behind. They will see your determination to fight the odds stacked against you.” He looks to the head of the original Middle East assassin group. “Bring her in alive.” He instructs the head. The man nods and shouts a command at his team. Sam locks her gaze to the man, fury in her eyes. He turns away.  
His team fall upon her, kicking and punching, lashing out with metal bars and poles. Somewhere during the beating, after curling into a ball to protect her head, she embraces the creeping darkness and passes out.

The Autobots tear across the desert, listening to the cries for help, listening to the beating. They are miles away still, speeding to the rescue. Ironhide and Jolt have planned how to dig the assassins out of the rubble, marking each location.   
Every alt carries assassins or NEST soldiers. Prime’s trailer carries the bulk of their human allies. When they finally get in range of the ghost town they run their scans, only to find the Decepticons long gone.   
They arrange themselves around the ghost town and their human allies disembark, allowing the Autobots to transform in their bi-pedal forms. While the teams split and begin recovery of the injured, Optimus walks through, trying to locate Sam. In the square he finds a scattering of assassins dead and hacked to bits. Sam’s Katanas are abandoned in the middle. One sword embedded into the chest of an assassin, the second lying to the side. There is a pool of blood in the middle, without a body or injured nearby. Her gun belt is lying next to the pool along with her battle mask.   
Sam is gone.  
Ratchet approaches his Prime cautiously. He kneels down next to the blood and runs a quick scan. “It is her blood.” He confirms. “I’m sorry Optimus, but it appears they have taken her.” Prime continues to stare at the blood.  
“You should assist the rescue efforts.” He responds. Ratchet stands slowly and rests a gentle servo to his friend’s shoulder.  
“We’ll get her back.”


	15. Rescue comes with consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam’s capture and her rescue

Sam wakes with a pounding headache and the feeling of sticky, half dried blood on her face. She lifts her head up and sluggishly looks around. She’s in a small room with concrete walls and floor, a two way mirror fills one wall.  
She’s hanging from a hook in the middle of the room, wrists bound by chains. Her toes brush the ground and her shoulders ache from holding her weight.  
“Awake at last.” She glances back to find a man standing in the doorway. Her blood freezes at the sight of him.  
He calmly shuts the door behind him and steps up behind her, holding her hips and presses into her back. His nose dips into the side of her throat and aims his voice into her ear. “I’ve missed your touch fleshling.” Sam barely holds back her shiver of disgust.

Mike’s fingers fly across the keyboard, trying to hack the program he himself set up. “She has a chip that can record and broadcast everything she visualises. I deactivated it when you captured her.” He explains to the men gathered around him. “I’m in. You should have a signal.” He calls over to Mirage who loads up the screen.  
The screen flickers on, displaying a view of concrete walls whizzing by and the sound of a pained grunt as the body impacts the walls behind. A pair of bound hands push under the body and raise themselves back up.  
A man stops before them, a hand reaching down and past the line of sight. The image slowly raises up, accompanied by the sound of chocking gasps. The bound hands claw at the man’s arm.   
The view turns to a mirrored wall, showing Sam hanging by her throat from the man’s extended arm.   
The man flings her behind him and her head smashes into the mirror, cracking spiderweb patterns into the smooth surface.  
The man presses into her back and grips her hair tightly, pulling her face away from the mirror. “You need to learn your lesson pet. I will have you again.” The mirror shows his hands dropping down the front of her body. A sob escapes her throat as his hand slips down the front of her trousers.   
She throws her fisted hands over her shoulder and punches him in the face. He staggers back and she gets her feet under her, spinning around she kicks out. The man catches her by the ankle and yanks her forward. A hand slams into her gut, doubling her over. A second punch lands on her face.  
In her dazed state the man grabs her chained hands and lifts them back to the hook, leaving her hanging.  
He storms out the room and she slowly raises her head back, eyes unfocused upon her reflection. “I’m so screwed.” She moans. 

The room is silent when Prime drops into the chair behind Mike, scrubbing his face and trying to fight back his tears. Alexander places a firm hand on the mech’s shoulder.  
“Can we back track this?” He asks Mike.  
“No. She played with the system years ago to prevent that. Does anyone recognise the room?” The remaining seven heads shake their heads. “It’s not any of the ‘Con bases I recognise. We have to assume it’s one of the Middle East bases. Let’s get anyone conscious here and see if they recognise it.”  
“You guys don’t know where the Middle East bases are?” Bumblebee snaps angrily.   
“If you’re not part of that family or a head then we don’t exactly get told it.” Mike bites back.   
None of the Middle East members recognise the room and they are forced to wait for Yoseph to wake from his coma. If he ever wakes up.   
She’s interrogated for long periods about the security of the base and the numbers of Autobot’s. Not once does she speak. Not once does she crack. Prime remains watching each interrogation, leaving only when she’s left alone.  
A few days later something fries her recording chip, cutting the footage off midway through Cybertronian tentacles snaking into her torture cell. Her pain filled screams are the last sounds heard.

Two weeks later NEST move in on the Middle East Palace outside of Damascus. Using every weapon in their arsenal to distract the ‘Cons and assassins so a team can break inside.  
The NEST team hurry through the corridor, following the scanner to one particular room. They kick the door in and clear the room. Lennox slips past his men and races to the woman hanging in the centre. She’s naked and covered in injuries. The soles of her feet drip blood beneath her, deep lacerations cover the skin. She has iron bars pierced through her legs and deep cuts to her flank. Weeping welts litter her back and shallow cuts score her arms. The chains about her wrists have rubbed the skin raw, trailing blood down her body. Her face is stained with bruises. Her eyes are closed with her head tilted over on the side of her neck, hanging limp.  
“Aw kid.” Lennox mutters. He strips out of his jacket and wraps it around her chest before lifting her off the hook. He picks her up bridal style, trying to arrange the jacket to cover her modesty.  
He orders their exit and they navigate their way back outside and into the war zone. They hurry through the fighting, aiming for the open backed jeep.  
Once they’re all onboard they tear out of the desert aiming for the airfield they had commandeered.  
Pulling up behind the carrier jet Lennox scoops her back into his arms and hurries to Ratchet’s alt. The back doors spring open and First Aid’s and Ratchet’s holoforms pick her up. The doors slam back in Lennox’s face. The man goes to rub his face, stopping when he sees the blood coating his hands. He walks back down the ramp and waves the pilot to take off, turning to the refuge of one of the other jets to wait the rest of the teams’ returns.  
He regrets not bringing a change of clothing or a cloth the second Prime tears onto the air strip. His top is saturated in her blood, streaks smearing his arms and hands.  
“Ratchet’s taken her. I don’t know anything.” He warns the ‘Bot when he slams his hands down on either side of the man, bringing his hard stare right into his personal space. His optics shift to Wheelie who’s huddled behind Lennox’ leg.  
“You don’t want to see it boss.” The ex-Decepticon warns him. The stare continues and Wheelie whimpers, optic dimming slightly as he passes the video file over to Prime.   
Optimus rises upright so fast he almost looks like he’ll topple, anguish flashing over his face.   
He spins back the way he came, looking ready to charge back into battle, if not for Ironhide and Bumblebee blocking him.  
The three mechs exchange rapid and aggressive words in their own language. It’s the only time they’ve ever switched into their own tongue when around humans. But Lennox can tell the second Prime sends the video file to the other two. Bumblebee appears to crumple, a low warble escaping him. Ironhide just looks pissed, but continues to block his Prime.  
“She needs you alive Optimus! She’ll need you now more than ever. Vengeance is not an option right now.” He growls, fighting his own desires to kill some Decepticons.  
Eventually Optimus returns to his alt mode and drives into the back of the carrier. He’s silent for the whole flight back. 

By the time they land Ratchet has sequestered Sam into the surgical suite, blocking all calls while he works. With First Aid helping him the three allied units are left without news. It’s not until the early hours of the morning when Ratchet greets the remaining group who’ve waited for his report. He leads them into the secure meeting room so he can detail his findings, hoping its reinforced enough to handle the fall out.  
He looks each being over in turn; Optimus and Bumblebee, Oki and Mike, Epps and Lennox. The six closest to the girl. He hopes this room is strong enough.  
He pulls up the human diagram, the one he designed to reflect her mix of organic and Cybertronian.   
“I’ll start at the top. Her skull had a sizeable hole, the surrounding area was fractured. Something pierced her skull and connected with her processor. If I had to guess I would say it was Soundwave’s link up cable.” The image enlarges upon the right side of her skull, displaying the size of the hole and the fractured Cybertronian metal. “She started convulsing in my alt. I needed to get her straight into surgery as several of her function chips were short circuiting. I have reforged her skull and replaced some of the primary chips, the automatic functions such as her lungs and heart.”   
Oki sinks down into one of the chairs with her clasped hands upon the table, face blank and impassive. “What else?”  
“She has multiple lacerations crisis crossing her back.” The image shows the extent of the damage. “Her nanites should mend the worst of it. I’ve grafted a synthetic skin to prevent nerve damage. The soles of her feet are the same.”  
“The thousand knife death.” Mike breaths, dropping into another chair.  
“My father’s speciality.” Oki confirms.  
“There was also an injury to her left wrist. My best guess is somebody sliced her radial artery. I don’t think they meant to do so as the injury with treated with a high grade clotting agent. But it’s severed the tendon to her thumb. I’ve fitted her with a Cybertronian tendon cable in the hopes it maintains her dexterity.” Mike and Oki exchange a not so subtle glance.  
“Hey! What’s with the secret spy glances?” Epps snaps, slamming a hand onto the table when he drops into a chair.  
“It is…unlikely that those injuries were sustained via torture.” Mike states. “It’s more…probable that…that Sam saw an opportunity to remove herself.” The three Autobots and Epps look clueless while Lennox drops his head into his hands.  
“She slit her own wrist?” His question is muffled.  
“If it got that bad then it is possible.” Oki confirms, once more cold and level headed.  
“I have also implanted a chip above the tendon’s connection in her forearms. If something like this happens again we can use it to pinpoint her locations.”  
“She’s going to be pissed about that.” Mike mutters.  
“She’s covered in cuts, burns and bruises. Several small fractures across the organic skeleton.”  
“What else Ratchet?” She asks, the cold seems to circle the room.   
“Hey! You can cut the ice bitch routine!” Lennox snaps.  
“You deal with it your way, we deal with it ours.” Mike argues back.  
“This isn’t helping guys.” Bumblebee tries to step in.   
“Well maybe if these two actually displayed human emotion for their supposed friend –“ the table gets flipped over the railing and an angry Japanese woman pins Epps to his chair by his throat.   
“You don’t know the first thing about me.” Her tone is low. “Just because I don’t show my emotions does not mean I don’t care. She is going to need calm, level headed people to lean on. People who can shut the human aspects away and let her release her hold on her own feelings.” She lowers herself until all Epps can see is her face.  
“I know what our former families are capable of and I need to know all the information.” She releases Epps and turns back to Ratchet. “You’re holding back regarding a series of injuries she has. I need to know.”  
Ratchet looks from Oki to Prime, keeping his optics on his leader. “She’s been raped…multiple times.”   
Optimus slumps against the wall behind him and all sound escapes him. He knew it was a probability but it still pains him to hear it out loud. And he suspects he knew who’d done it.


	16. Rescue comes with consequences Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healing comes with time and the assassins are best placed to help

She wakes suddenly on a soft bed, blinded by bright lights and white walls. She groans as her body protests her moving.

She scans the room estimating that she’s in a med room. She explores her dressings, finding herself dressed in dark blue scrubs. Throwing her legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up, she eyes the surgical tray. The movement of the door handle forces her hand.

When Ratchet, Ironhide and Optimus, in holoform, walk through the door they find Sam on her feet brandishing a scalpel at them.

“Sam, it’s ok. You’re safe. You’re home.” Prime says, slowly approaching her.

“Lies!” She hisses back, her voice coming out in a croak. “You’ve worn his face before you bastard.” She swipes the blade in the air, forcing the three back.

They aren’t fearful of her injuring them, they are more concerned for what she would do to herself if backed into a corner. She slowly creeps along the wall towards the door, grasping the door handle behind her and slipping through the gap. Not bothering with the lock, after all they are holoforms, she races down the empty corridor with a tight grip on her only weapon. She checks door after door before she finds one without a room.

She races out into the sunlight, bandaged feet slowing as they crunch painfully over the hard packed dirt of the desert. She gapes at the familiar view, at the familiar heat and familiar dusty smell. The door opens behind her as the heavy footfalls of Cybertronians rounds the building. She gazes up at Optimus, feeling her limbs beginning to shake in shock. She turns from his true form to face his holoform. The blade slips from numb fingers, clattering to the desert floor.

“Orion.” She whispers. “I nearly…I could’ve…” her hand rises to cover her mouth as hysteria rises in her throat. Optimus moves forward quickly, shushing her gently. She lunges forward and wraps her arms around his neck, burying her head into his shoulder. He holds her back just as tightly.

“You’re home. You’re safe.” He whispers into her hair. The sobs break from her hold and she clings desperately to him.

 

Ratchet tuts over the wounds on her feet from his position at the end of the bed. She’s sitting back on the pillow with a blanket about her shoulders, her hands in a death grip on the front.

Once she had calmed Optimus had carried her back to the med room and settled her back on the bed. Ironhide had tried to stave off her shock with the blanket, while Optimus had returned the surgical blade to her. He knew it was her only comfort from attack and risked allowing her to keep it, she had tied her hair into a knot on her head and placed the blade into the centre for easy use.

Ratchet had forgone his lecture about her reopening the wounds on the soles of her feet, understanding the mind games the Decepticons had played with her. Some strong pain killers later and she was sound asleep holding Optimus hand.

He stayed awake all night watching over her.

 

Ironhide had physically forced Prime from the room for their meeting the next day. His aim was to get them through the meeting and then get him into recharge. That in itself would be a battle.

Ratchet had sworn to watch over the girl while she slept, Bumblebee joining as a second pair of servos.

The youngest ‘Bot hunches miserably, optics taking in the injuries and scars. The surgical scar on her face where the medic had operated to repair the cracked Cybertronian metal in her skull. The way she slept on her side due to injuries to the skin on her back and the brace on her left wrist from the deep wound in her wrist. Ratchet had had to replace the tendon in her thumb due to the severity of the injury.

She twitches throughout her body causing ‘Bee to lean forward, fearing she was about to have another seizure. She hadn’t had any since the surgery, but Ratchet had stated that the biological element of her brain could be temperamental post surgery.

She thrashes her head to the side and her lips move in a faint whisper.

“No. Please stop. Please.” She curls into a tight ball and throws her arm over her head, a low moan rising from her throat, fingers tightening in her hair.

“Ratchet.” He hisses over his shoulder. Just as the other mech turns, a piercing scream rings out. Two holoforms appear either side of the woman as she writhes on the bed, screaming bloody murder in her nightmares. They react by grabbing her shoulders and trying to restrain her hands, but she just fights them harder.

“Sam! Sam wake up!” ‘Bee shouts from above her. Her fist catches him in the nose blinding him to the open palm shot to his throat. A second later Ratchet is flung back while ‘Bee crashes to the floor.

They both turn back to the now empty bed, Ratchet spotting the huddled form beneath it. He slowly crouches down and holds both palms out.

“Sam? It was just a dream little one. Just a nightmare. You’re safe. I should not have touched you, but I feared you injuring yourself. Please come out.” She slowly slides out on her belly, eyes darting to each corner before she rises into a crouch.

It takes some time to coax her back into the bed but she stays awake for the rest of the day, just listening to Bumblebee talk.

Every time she sleeps there after she awakens from nightmares, but nobody touches her until she awakens fully.

 

Optimus is forced away for yet another meeting, listening to yet another politician trying to gain some favour from the Autobots. He turns off the corridor into Ratchet’s med bay, optics turning to the small hospital bed positioned in the corner of the room.

He raises an optic ridge at the additional body lying in the bed. Oki raises her head from her book and motions for quiet.

She is stretched out on the bed propped up by pillows with her legs under the blanket. Sam is curled up next to her with her torso thrown over the woman’s body, head pillowed on Oki’s stomach. She is fast asleep and looks peaceful. Oki brushes a gentle hand over Sam’s hair, smiling down at her.

“She’s been asleep for eight hours now.” Oki explains quietly.

“How?” Optimus asks.

“I’m returning the favour.” She brushes a strand of hair from Sam’s eyes. “When we met I used to have nightmares. My father was not a good man, he abused me in the night for many years. Things no father should ever do to their daughter.

When I stayed with Sam she discovered my night terrors. She stayed with me at night, reading until I went to sleep and watching over me. When my training with her was complete she beat my father up, threatened to turn him into a Ken doll.”

Optimus shakes his helm to indicate his confusion. “She threatened to lop his dick off if he ever touched me again. She saved me in more ways than one.”

“How do we help her?” He pleads with the younger woman.

“The nightmares will never go away, but maintaining some form of contact with her while she sleeps will help. When she does have a nightmare, talk calmly and quietly. Talk constantly until she wakes up.”

“I understand.”

“Get some sleep Prime. You look like shit.” He chuckles before moving away to the berth to get some recharge.

 

_She’s been in this base for giants for several days now, all metal and fluorescent lights. She should be sleeping, should feel safe away from him. But habit wakes her early and finds her in the gym trying to stop thinking._

_Alpha’s SIC comes in at 6am, nodding politely to her and then carries out his training. This is their seventh day of working out in silence._

_By 7am the rest of the Decepticon humans trail in for their daily training. Oki slips out then to meet Alpha outside._

_“Is it the time difference?” Oki jumps a mile and throws a fist without thinking. Alpha catches her fist and pulls the younger woman in closer._

_“I just don’t sleep well.” Oki answers, trying to pull her arm free._

_“I know a lot about nightmares kid.” She responds._

_“Not a kid!” Oki snaps, tugging her fist free._

_“Mike used to have a lot of nightmares. He found it easier to sleep with another body near him.” Oki flinches._

_Alpha stares long and hard, silently reading her. “I’m going to kill your father.” She hisses, keeping eye contact. “Bunk with me a while and we’ll try to get through this together.” Oki shyly looks down on the older woman. “You’ve got more potential than your father’s name, kid. I’ll make you believe it one day.”_

 

She steps out onto the roof of the med bay, arm extended out into the sun, face turned up into the heat. Optimus stays back and allows her to enjoy the sun; they had kept her in the med bay for two weeks.

The two sets of twins suddenly pop up over the edge in their true forms, rising above her from behind. Sideswipe reaches out to grab her up, servo a hairs breath from her back when she spins suddenly and swipes out with a hidden blade. The mech just manages to pull away, the blade glancing off the plating on the tips of his fingers.

She suddenly blinks, her hand trembling faintly, fumbling to tuck the blade away.

“Sorry Sides’, you…don’t come up behind me.” She warns him, pressing a hand to her temple.

“Sam?” Mike steps up behind her, keeping a distance away. Only once she turns to look at him does he hold a hand out to her.

She clasps his hand and he slowly leads her over to the piano set up in the corner of the roof. She settles on the stool and regards the keys before her, acknowledging the glass of whiskey the man places before her. He waits until she starts tinkling the keys, stretching her injured arm out and experimenting with the new tendon beneath her skin. Only once she’s focused does the man move back to the AUtobots.

”Here’s a tip for you,” he comes to stand next to them. “She’s going to be skittish for sometime. Don’t tower over her, her mind will think you mean to threaten her. Don’t snatch her up, she’ll assume you mean her harm. And don’t touch her unless she initiates the touch.”

“How would you know?” Sunstreaker sneers. The man flashes him a dark smile.

“Because I know PTSD. She helped me with it. I was a prisoner in Afghanistan, tortured mercilessly. My mind told me every person who touched me meant harm to me. She used to extend her arms part way and let me control the touch. First she would extend 10% and let me move 90%, extending further as time went by. It helped my brain process control again.”

“Have all of you had PTSD?” Bumblebee blurts out.

“To some extent.” The man chuckles. “Why do you think she has such loyalty? She understands so much, even without her memories.”

The man and mechs stay to watch her play. Optimus finally moves his holoform closer, stopping next to her and waiting for her to acknowledge him.

She takes a small sip of the whiskey and pats the space on the stool next to her. He places his hands over the keys at one end and starts playing a couple of chords. A smile lights up her face as she moves her hands to the other end and plays the melody, recognising the song quickly.

They both open their mouths in unison and start singing, her gaze softening as he accompanies her.

“Now I think I understand

How this world can overcome a man

Like a friend we saw it through

In the end I gave my life for you

Gave you all I had to give

Found a place for me to rest my head

While I may be hard to find

Heard there's peace just on the other side.”

They break off, focusing on the next section of the piano, moving in tandem together. She takes the chorus alone, her stronger voice lifting the tone.

“Not that I could

Nor that I would

Let it burn

Under my skin

Let it burn.”

He joins in again, his deeper voice raising the sound.

“Left this life to set me free

Took a piece of you inside of me

All this hurt can finally fade

Promise me you'll never feel afraid

Not that I could

Nor that I would

Let it burn Under my skin

Let it burn.”

They slow the melody, singing softly as she rests her head against his shoulder.

“I hope it's worth it

here on the highway

yeah I know you'll find your own way when I'm not with you

So tell everybody

the ones who walk beside me

yeah I hope you'll find your own way when I'm not with you tonight

I hope it's worth it

what's left behind me

yeah I know you'll find your own way when I'm not with you

So tell everybody

the ones who walk beside me

yeah I know you'll find your own way when I'm not with you tonight.”

They sit long after they’ve finished, him letting her seek sanctuary tucked into his side. She slips her hand into his.

_In a dead end bar off the high street of Glasgow sits a disheveled man at the bar. Hunched over he nurses his whiskey and stares into the bottom of his glass._

_He knocks the last of the drink back and begins riffling through his pocket._

_“If you’ve got no money Mike, you’ve got no drink mate.” He glances up at the Bar Keep, shame colouring his dark cheeks._

_“Two of what he’s having sir.” A petite woman, faint tan and dark haired rests her elbows on the bar next to him._

_“Coming right up miss.” The barman hurries away. Mike eyes her up and she gives him a soft smile._

_“Missy.” She offers and extends her hand. He grips it gently, making note of the calluses on her palms and fingers. Thick scaring stands out on her right cheek and into her hair._

_“Mike.” He grunts. The barman sets their drinks down and takes her money, shuffling away._

_“Enjoy your drink Mike.” She turns away and he looses sight of her in the crowd. Something itches in the back of his mind, a warning remaining from her touch._

_On his way back to his dingy flat he can’t help but glance back over his shoulder. He sees nothing, hears less but can’t help the itch. He may be drunk but his skills still give him warnings._

_He kicks the door open, fighting the broken lock to let him in and stumbles in, throwing his shoulder into the door to close it._

_Three steps across the room he stops dead, head turning to the dark shadow in his arm chair._

_“I’m in Glasgow…” He whispers. “Safe in my flat…” he repeats it once more._

_“That you are Captain.” The lamp next to the chair clicks on and the shadow sits forward, stubbing a cigarette out in his ash tray. Light tanned skin looks paler under the light, dark hair swallowing the light._

_“You’re not military and you’re not British. There’s a hint of American there and scaring from high intensity rounds. You CIA?” He hazards a guess, turning to face ‘Missy’ and reaching behind the sideboard for his pistol._

_She sits further forward and lays his pistol on the floor._

_“I’m afraid I don’t quite know where I’m from. But I’m here for you.” He eyes the pistol and then sizes her up. Jeans and a tight T-shirt, low cut to show her cleavage. A leather jacket unfastened, slight bunch in the left sleeve where a blade is strapped. Gun attached to the inside of the jacket._

_“Didn’t realise assassins really could be that pretty. Who’ve I pissed off.” He asks, sobering quickly as his fight or flight kicks in._

_“You think I’m pretty?” She toys. “I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to recruit you.” She stands slowly. “I think you’re what I’ve been looking for.” She steps closer._

_“My name is Alpha One, and I think I might have a new start for you Striker.”_

_“Let’s start from the beginning.” He prompts._


	17. Taking the fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes the fight out into the world

For the next two weeks she starts to get out on her own more, often slipping those volunteering to stay with her. She turns up for meals and willingly falls asleep in Prime’s arms. When the nightmares plague her, she retreats to his alt form, snuggling up in the sleeper of his cabin.  
And suddenly she starts to become very secretive, more quiet and withdrawn. They give her her space, hoping she will settle back in with the crowds. Then one day she appears on one of the scaffolds, standing near to Mike and fixates on their training below.   
“Sam?” Mike asks, standing behind her watching her peer down upon the training mission. Her hands grip the railing tight as she focus on one assassin in particular.  
“Did you know Soundwave has the ability to read digital minds?” She asks quietly.   
“I’d heard rumours.” He responds with a questioning tone in his statement.  
“It is possible to turn that back on him.” She finally turns to face the man, the pink scarring standing out on her face where Ratchet had been forced to repair the catastrophic damage to her skull. “I’ve spent the last two weeks sorting through my memory, working out what was implanted images and what was me taking them from him…we have a traitor Striker.” She turns back to the training.  
“Sam, we…I’m not sure if you’ve healed mentally enough to make that conclusion.” He tells her carefully. She graces him with a wistful smile.  
“I know. Do you think I would rely on a PTSD riddled mind to draw that conclusion?” She throws him a memory stick. “I found that in his data signature on base, exchanged during our planning of the last mission. Don’t worry, I won’t make a move without full consent of the heads.” He fiddles with the data stick and gives her a sad look.   
“I’ll look through it. Drift is looking for you.”  
“Thank you.” She responds brushing past him out to the open grounds where Drift waits with her Katanas. 

The assassins and soldiers circle the man posed in the middle of their crowd, he calmly places his hands on his head and waits while they strip him of his weapons. “She found your data exchanges.” Oki informs her assassin. The Chinese man gives her a dark smirk.   
“For the glory of a new regime.” He responds in perfect English.   
“I hope you still believe that when we’re through with you. Take him in.” The crowd separates, watching as he’s roughly dragged out to the detention centre. “I want our best teams working on him round the clock.” She orders, watching as their specialists follow after their prisoner.  
She glances around curiously before turning to Mike. “I thought she’d want a front row seats to this. This was her proof of her recovery after all.” Mike frowns.  
“I thought she came out with you?”   
“She said she’d stay here with you to watch him.”  
“Wait she went to the meeting!” They both freeze for a fraction of a second and then sprint for the senior soldiers barracks.   
Kicking in her locked door they discover an empty room void of any personal items. Oki turns and runs back out, heading for the security rooms. Their meeting had started at 3 am for secrecy and they had only arrested their spy at 2pm, she’d had roughly 12 hours head start on them.  
Mike approaches the bed, eyes raking over the bandage packets and used surgical needle, a small chip rests in the middle of a dressing. Ignoring the blood coating the chip he picks it up and reads the code branded to the silicon. He grips the chip tightly and marches out to the Autobot labs, seeking Q.

Prime! The security footage has been tampered with, eighteen hours worth of footage has been replaced with last weeks footage. Optimus lifts his helm from his pursuit of the data pad in his servos. He’d remained in the secure meeting room with Ironhide, translating the decrypted data extracted from the spies digital records. Sam hadn’t translated the Cybertronian language for the humans, something unlike her usual thoroughness. He had simply assumed she’d failed to do it in her rush to provide them with the raw data.  
Prowl’s frantic message added to his concern for his spark beloved.  
Prime! She’s cut her tracking chip out. Q’s message follows a fraction of a second later.  
Optimus! The motorbike – her motorbike is gone! Sunstreaker’s message forces him running out the door with Ironhide collecting the data streams being broadcast from several different sources. They move to the labs, the closest structure to their location.  
Prowl, who accessed the security systems?  
Sam, it’s her code. Oki informs me that her room is empty, her kit and mission suit are gone.  
Prime opens up an open channel to the Autobot’s.  
“Q? You said you have her chip.” He looks to the high railing to find Mike holding out a hand with the bloody chip in his palm.   
“It was in her room. Her kit’s-“  
“Missing, I know. Oki is with Prowl and they’ve discovered her codes have tampered with the security footage.” He sends a scan out to the chip and steps back when he discovers a background program that triggers with his scan.  
“State your code Orion.” Her voice comes from the chip, causing Mike’s hand to jolt in surprise.   
Prime rattles off a series of numbers, binary code for her newer code name, Dark Angel. A pin point of light explodes from the chip, displaying a hologram into the open space above.  
“Hello Orion.” Her face turns blindly into the open space. “You’re going to be pissed with me, but I need you to understand love. Since I rejoined the Autobots they’ve targeted me. And by association they’ve targeted everyone else.” She pushes a hand through her hair. “I should have done this from the start, but it’s hard to walk away from my home. But I need to now because you’re all going to get hurt trying to shield me. Gods, it hurts just thinking of this!” She stands to her feet and paces in the hologram. “I can’t let you lot get killed for me. I won’t.” She cuts the air with her hand, displaying the bandage on her forearm, directly where the implanted chip was located.  
“I’m going off on my own, I’m going to bring them down. Alone. The families are the eyes and ears for the Decepticons and I’m going to burn them down to the ground.” She turns back to the chip recording her. “Don’t come looking for me, you won’t find me. Not until I’ve laid waste to them all.” She pauses, breathing heavily and trying to hold back the tears.  
“I love you Orion. Don’t come looking for me love. Stay safe and I will see you again.” Just as the tears escape her eyes, she rotates her right wrist and cuts the recording.  
Prime stands frozen, optics fixed on the empty air before him. The open channel is silent as every Autobot pauses in their motions throughout the base.   
Ironhide places a servo on his friends arm and steps up beside him. “Optimus?” He asks quietly. He turns his helm to view the shorter mech from the corner of his field of view.  
“Find her.” He instructs everyone.   
For a week they search. Facial recognition software running through every camera eye throughout the world. They hijack every satellite above Earth and fix them to each known base run by the assassin families. They find nothing during those long seven days.

Simmons sprints across the base and skids into Q’s lab. “I’ve got something! I’ve got her! Bring up satellite 277Beta675!” Q brings up the footage as the man charges up the metal stairs and crosses the platform so he can see the screen.  
Optimus rises from his recharge at the back of the room and rises to his feet, ducking under the catwalk to see the screens. “That’s the Aussie assassin base! Look!” Simmons points frantically.  
The view shows a huge ball of smoke above the compound, obscuring the picture of the structure. “That has to be the kid.” Optimus curses their decision not to send the Rebel Line out to that location. The remaining 10 heads had offered to split their forces and send them to each base to watch for Sam’s arrival. However they had agreed that the risk was too great to those stationed, should they be captured or killed out there.  
“Prowl is trying to hack their systems. He thinks the damage is severe enough to gain access without detection.”   
The radio in Simmons’ hand crackles to life. “I have the footage from the last twenty four hours.” Smokescreen announces. “Loading to your location.”   
The screens covering the walls load up hundreds of images from within the base and fast forwards through genetic footage of daily life on the Australian base. Suddenly a third of the cameras cut out into static while the rest display the living quarters of the compound explode in an inferno, debris scattering in every direction. Several manhole coverings explode upwards, indicating the origin of the explosion.   
“There!” Simmons shouts, almost tipping over the railing in his excitement, pointing out one camera in the centre of the compound. A single dark figure moves between the shadows, the flash of a pair of Katanas gleaming in the roaring flames.   
She speeds into the mass of people escaping the bellowing smoke, blood spraying out in her familiar dance of gore. Some fight her back but the bulk fall quickly and efficiently.  
The three males watch her progress through the compound until the flames push her back towards the entrance. Optimus observes the way she holds an arm tight about her gut as she hurries out of the compound wall, his enhanced optics spot the blood dribbling over her fingers where they grip her flank. At the entrance she pauses and releases her grip, extending her arm out and twisting her wrist. The remainder of the explosive devices set off the final chain reaction of fire. And then she hobbles back out into the night and disappears.   
“Contact the Australian military and get them out there.” Optimus sends out to Prowl. He needs eyes on the ground. He turns back to Simmons. “Has there been any triggers on the cameras at the ports?”   
“Nothing.”   
“Get everybody not on shift to manually check the cameras for the last five days.” Simmons nods and starts calling the ‘Bots to the hangers to manually run through the footage via his radio.  
Twenty four hours later they find what they’re looking for, gathering the assassin heads, NEST leaders and Autobots into the hanger. On the screen Sam, dressed in civilian garbs, makes her way through an airport with a large duffle bag over her shoulders. She clears security with a passport in the name of Rachel Dresc and collects a hire car from the front desk.  
“How did the facial recognition software not trigger?” Lennox asks from his perch on Ironhide’s shoulders.  
“She’s messing with the cameras. She can’t glitch them all so she tricks the software into looking for the wrong facial features.” Q explains. “We won’t be able to track her in that method, she’ll override the core coding every time.”  
“What about the footage in the compound?”   
“Security is different there. If she cuts the feed then she’ll broadcast her presence there. So she leaves them running rather than risking splitting her concentration.” Ironhide points out.  
“Great! So we can’t track her arrival or movements in any country!” Mike rages from Sunstreaker’s shoulder. “I’m sending my team out. I’ll risk their discovery, we need boots at all possible locations.”  
“I second that.” Yoseph joins.  
“Each team will take an Autobot with them. We can maintain a world wide link for the next strike.” Smokescreen orders.  
“Do it.” Prime rumbles.   
“She’s left you another message Optimus.” Simmons reports, listening to his radio. “Australian military have packaged a data chip and have it enroute to us.” He waits impatiently for the package.

The door to his office seals shut behind him, but he fixes his optics on the small plastic wrapped package in his servo, a hand written note taped to the front. ‘For Prime’s eyes only’, penned in her cursive English script, a hand writing that had never changed. He didn’t believe in the science of hand writing analysis. Yes you could recognise another persons writing, their penmanship. But that writing only changed with age, when medical suffering made it harder to see or hold a pen. But hand writing did not denote Psychopathic tendencies or anger, for her hand writing had remained the same throughout, regardless of her memories or mental state.   
He scanned the large chip and found a video file contained, playing it through himself so he could display high resolution.  
Her image appears before him, hair damp and free about her face, fresh from a shower in her motel room. They’d found the chip on the bed where she now sat in the image. Her head was down, peering at the flesh exposed beneath her bra on her flank. She brought one arm up and across her chest, pulling a fine wire taunt before bringing the needle back down to the flesh, just off camera.  
“I figured you wouldn’t listen to me. Kind of hoped you wouldn’t, but you need to stop Orion. You can’t track me and you won’t find me, so stop.” She finally raises her eyes up to his. “Stop wasting your time and resources. I won’t risk anybody dying for me and I won’t stop in my mission. If I can end the families then the Decepticons can’t get organised like they are now.” She finishes tying the wire and cuts the rest off, placing the needle on the bedside table. “Focus on running the base and let me focus on this. I love you. Stay safe.” The video ends. He plays it twice more before sinking into his desk chair.  
“Primus help me, keep her safe.” He whispers into the empty room.

He drives down the deserted roads leaving Germany, the German base had been empty. The assassins were starting to evacuate their bases, taking off in different directions. Sam had levelled the Australian family, Oriental family and Asian family. She had then skipped the Middle East and caught a flight to Austria where she had vanished again.   
Since then Russia and the Middle East bases had evacuated and also vanished. He was now following the European Rebel Line members to a secondary base in Switzerland.   
It was now three month since Sam had left and they hadn’t gotten close to catching up with her. The only team in Asia to be in the vicinity of her had been given knockout gas before she moved past them.   
His mobile phone starts ringing on his dashboard. He leans forward in his seat and snatches the device up in his holoform hand, glances at the screen and then answers, putting speaker phone on.  
“Hello Oki.” He greets. “Has Alexander tracked where the Russian base have fled to?” The line is silent for a beat.  
“I wouldn’t worry about Russia.” He nearly drops the phone and has to pull himself back into his side of the road.  
“Sam?” He can hear her lips pull up into a smile.  
“Hi.” She responds. “I’m using Oki’s cell service. And tell Alexander that Russia fled to Alaska. You might not find the ruins for a while, it was quiet a treck to get there.” He makes out an odd rumble sound in the background, constant and maintaining pitch.   
“Sam, are you…you’re ok right?”   
“Still here Orion, still kicking. All four limbs attached as well as my head.” She quips.  
“Thank Primus.” He responds. “Where are you?”   
“Are you tracking the fleeing rats yet?” She ignores his question. “Germany have fled and Switzerland is empty too. Have your eyes on the ground found where they’re going yet?”   
“No. We can only find the empty bases, not how they are leaving or where they are going. Why are you calling? Why now?”  
“Tell Prowl and Q that I’m going to hack one of the families databases. I won’t be able to read the data when I’m inside, so they need to extract the information. I’m hoping it will have coordinates to a base, an extraction location that they’re all heading for.”  
“I shall instruct them to be ready. Where are you?”   
“I think I’m about to carry out my most stupidest mission ever. I…” Her voice breaks and he hears her take a shaky breath. “I needed to hear your voice again.” She whispers softly. The unspoken in case I don’t make it back hangs between them.  
“Sweet spark, you’re scaring me.” He whispers.  
“I’m sorry.” It sounds more like a sob. “But I need to do this and this is the only way.”   
“Ma’am, we’re approaching the drop site.” He hears over her side. “I love you, please know I will always love you… I miss you.” Then the line cuts.   
I can’t track the call, it’s pinging off too many satellites to be sure of a location. Optimus drops his head into his hand, trying to fight the tears back.  
Wait! He raises his head up. That was a plane! A light aircraft, She’s tracking something. We know she can jump – has jumped from planes before for missions. Can you track any planes without an active transponder?  
I’ll try. Prowl responds. Optimus pulls over and calls the European Rebel Lines back, letting them know the Swiz Alps is a bust. Prime, I’ve got something! There’s a light aircraft dangerously high above Russia. But they appear to be crossing flight paths with an unmarked carrier jet. That jet doesn’t belong to any military. I think it’s an assassin carrier.  
Get some satellites over head and try to hack any devices on that craft.   
Prime waits at the roadside, their nearest carrier is hours away and he would rather divert that aircraft closer to her location.   
Mike pops up next to his window and opens the door, sliding into the warm cabin. An image springs to life across the windshield displaying several cameras within the aircraft.   
“Someone’s watching the cameras, we’re being tracked!” The engineer of the craft reports from behind the pilot. “Shit! Carrier doors opening, I can’t close it!”   
A wire shoots into the hold of the plane, gripping into the back structure. A second later a figure drops onto the ramp, attached via a belt to the wire. Sam steps into the plane and smacks the button behind the hydraulics, causing the ramp to close up.   
She tugs the hook from the wall and pulls the wire in, curling it into a loop that she throws over her head and shoulder. She then pulls both pistols from her thighs and stops before the door, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. A second later she kicks the door in and starts shooting into the group of people on the other side.  
“Put the bitch down!” Is screamed from the railing before the cockpit, the British head of the European family stands before the door.  
A second later an explosion rips through the engine and the plane lurches to the right, spinning over on the side. Everybody gets thrown into the air and then slammed into the plane wall. Sam throws her hook into the ceiling and clings on, aiming one pistol down into the mass of pinned bodies now beneath her.  
Another lurches rises them all to the ceiling, her gun is knocked out of her hand and a lucky swing connects with her cheek.   
Equipment, tied down for the flight, starts to break free of their bindings and joins the free flying mass of bodies. Sam rolls clear along the wall as a large vehicle smashes down into where she lay.   
She kneels up and starts shooting at the cabin. On their camera footage they witness the pilots slump forward over their consoles. The plane tips forward into a nose dive. Sam grips onto the wall, fighting the gravity trying to launch her across the distance of the plane.  
The wall next to her head begins to fracture, she spares it a second glance before releasing her hold and flying away from the crack. She impacts a part of the fixed structure with her left shoulder, rotating her 180 degrees into the back wall. She casually grabs her gun off the wall and turns it upon the man lying next to her. The head of the family spills his brains along the wall just as the fracture breaks and the outer hull rips open.   
All loose items get sucked out the hole as the wings break off and the tail follows a second later. Sam keeps tight hold on her hook, searching the debris around the plane. With a deep breath she cuts the wire and gets sucked out into the air.  
Prime switches to the satellite images that show the plane breaking apart. He tracks a small dot that flys from the cluster of debris and free falls in a controlled pose.  
“That planes back.” Mike points out as both males watch the light aircraft drop lower than the breaking up plane. Sam twists towards the plane and angles towards the machine. She comes over it and reaches out to the wing, pulling her torso over it, curling her body around and clings on. They watch as the plane comes down in a field and Sam rolls off the wing, flopping out on her back.  
The pilot jumps out and rushes to her side, crouching over her.   
“Shit! That absolute fucker!” Cries out Mike, pulling his phone from his pocket. He makes a call and clicks it onto speaker.  
“Not a good time Mike.” A man answers.  
“You’re fucking standing over her! What the hell are you playing at Danny?”  
“I’m sorry man, but she needed a pilot. She might know how to fly but she can’t fly for shit!” He pulls away from the phone. “Can you move?”   
“Yeah…just give me a sec…” Sam’s voice carries in the background.  
“We’re sending a carrier to your location. Stay there.”  
“Alright Mike! I’ll keep her here.” He hangs up.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam returns to base

The carrier touches down on the run way and moves to their position. When the ramp lowers a single figure stands proud at the top. She has her duffel bag over her shoulder, still dressed in her cat suit along with her weapons. Her left arm hangs limp from the shoulder with the arm curled around her midsection. She strides down the ramp, glancing around at the activity around the base.  
Optimus strides out with optics locked on her. His holoform materialised several feet away and runs out to her. She picks up speed and they both crash into each other, arms wrapping around shoulders and clinging to shirts at their backs.  
They lock lips in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry.” She whispers when they part. “I’m sorry love.”  
“You’re home. Safe.” He cups her face and draws her into another kiss.  
“Stop molesting my patient.” Ratchet shouts down to the pair, towering over them.   
“Missed you too Hatchet.” She speaks fondly.  
“My med bay – now!” She ducks her head but complies, following the ‘bot while tucked into Optimus’ side.   
Once in the med bay she puts her duffel bag down and spends a lengthy amount of time pulling weapons off her person. Pistols and cartridges, both Katanas, knives of various sizes are all laid out on the human sized bench.   
Ratchet engages his holoform as she turns away and yanks her into a tight hug that she returns in equal measure. When they pull away he cups her face and checks her bruises and scrapes.  
“Get this off, I need to see your shoulder.” She unzips the front of her suit and sits back on the human sized berth. Ratchet helps her ease her shoulder and arms out before prodding at the freshly discoloured joint. He prods around the socket and runs deep tissue scans. “I need to reset this dislocation.” He instructs, grasping her hand and her elbow. Optimus comes around behind her, wrapping his arms around her chest and pressing his hands into either side of the socket to help.  
“On three…one…” He pulls her arm forward with force and the joint makes a cringe worthy pop. Sam drops her head onto Ratchet’s chest and groans in pain. He rotates her shoulder gently to check her movement.   
He then spends the next half hour checking her from head to toe, categorising every recent and healed injury, tutting at her stitching on her flank. She allows it with patience, letting him check she’s not going to keel over dead.  
He eventually thrusts some scrubs at her and points to the shower room. “Clean up, get dressed and then come back so I can stitch your head up.” She gives a suffering sigh and pulls the scalpel from her bun, allowing her hair to fall free about her shoulders. She steps forward extending the pointy end.  
“You are not hacking my hair off.” Despite standing in brief boxers and a sports bra, the brandished blade has the right effect as he waves her away.   
Both ‘Bots wait until the shower starts running. “How is she?” Prime asks.  
“Considering being away for three months she’s in good health.” Optimus raises an eyebrow and then sends a data burst to the medic of her exploits in the air. By the time Sam returns, towel drying her hair, Ratchet is pacing the floor and ranting at the top of his voice. Sam freezes half way across the med bay.  
Ratchet stands in his full Cybertronian form and bares down upon her. “Jumping out of planes! Blowing carriers up midair! I’m locking you in here – permanently! Full psychological evaluation.” She stands calmly and waits for him to finish.  
“It was the only option or the remaining families would have gone to ground. My mission was to wipe them all out.” She bites out.  
“You didn’t intend to return today.” She looks away from both forms of each mech.  
“No. If I survived the mission I was intending to snag the data burst and race you guys to their new base. I hadn’t considered on Danny refusing to take me any further.” Ratchet’s holoform yanks her into a crushing hug.  
“You stupid girl.” He presses into her hair. “You and Prime are too much alike sometimes. He did the exact same thing a millennium ago.” He pulls back and cups her cheek. “I’m never letting you out my optics again.” A laugh escapes her lips.  
“I missed you too doc.” The medic stitches the head wound at the back of her skull and then forces some pain killers down her throat. “Now get some sleep.” He points to the large cot in the corner of his med bay, ignoring Optimus’ holoform that slips under the cover first. She curls into his embrace and falls easily into sleep. Optimus lies awake for a long time just watching her sleep, occasionally stroking her flesh or pressing kisses into her hair. Ratchet leaves them in peace.

Optimus sets Sam down upon the platform with the large meeting table and places himself behind her chair. The NEST high command, Rebel Line heads and Autobot heads are gathered awaiting her. She swings her duffel bag onto the table top and pulls several bottles from its depths.   
“I thought we weren’t allowed alcohol at these meetings?” Epps asks.  
“Maybe by your contracts but not by ours.” Alexander taunts him, reaching for the vodka bottle. Sam keeps the open bottle of Toblamoray whiskey, filling the glass before her.  
She takes her seat and rubs her face tiredly. “Right, let’s get the lectures out the way first.” She takes a large swig of her drink, raising an eyebrow when nobody says anything. “Well go on.”  
“We’re not angry Sam.” Oki pipes up. “Our line at least understood why you did it. We were worried about you. But I get it.”   
Keller raises his hand up. “I’m sorry but I didn’t understand your decision.”   
“So I’m the best in the business. Literally the best. The Decepticons wanted me back under their thumb. The families just want me dead. So I’m a target and by association, everyone else is a target. I was not going to remain here and get someone killed protecting me.  
Now, the families are the eyes and ears throughout the world, especially for the Decepticons. My figuring was taking out the families and by association, crippling the organisation of the Decepticons. But if NEST and the Rebel Line were involved in the missions then chances are they would have been tipped off. So I went it alone. It’s harder to track a single person than it is a full team.”   
“So you’ve got them running scared?” Keller questions.  
“We crippled the Mercenary numbers within the Decepticon forces when Mike and the rest came to our side. We also destroyed the South American family in Mexico. And we’d been picking away at the North American forces throughout our missions. That was over a six month period.  
In three months I’ve wiped out the Australians, Russians, European, Asian and Oriental families.” She let’s it sink in before continuing.  
“That leaves the Middle East and Africa. Has Prowl worked out where that plane was headed?”  
“Sahara desert.” Ironhide rumbles. The Rebel Line heads exchange glances and hand signals.  
“That complicates things.” Sam eventually voices.  
“We can’t sneak up on them.” Lennox points out.  
“I would suggest monitoring the situation for now and coming back to that at a later point.” Optimus suggests. “Please detail your three months.” He prompts Sam who knocks back her drink and refills the glass. 

The door has barely closed when Optimus pins her to the door, pressing both her hands into the solid material above her head. He brings his face within a hairs breadth of hers, causing her to strain forward towards him. He pulls back out of reach.  
“Don’t tease.” She whispers. He closes the gap and controls the kiss, the heat rising up. Releasing her wrists he pulls at her top ripping it over her head. With a lift he presses her against the door with his body and follows the line of her throat with his mouth.   
Her nibble fingers have his belt undone and the buttons parted, slipping a hand past the barrier and grasps his length. He groans out loud, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. He can feel the smug smile form on her lips, retaliating by harshly biting her flesh. With a strong lift he raises her into the air and throws her at the mattress.   
He crawls up her body, tugging her trousers off and hurling them behind onto the floor. She leans up into their next kiss. “Take me here.” She whispers into his mouth. He presses his whole length in with a single thrust, both of them writhing at the sensation.   
He takes his time building their pleasure up, watching her fall apart beneath him. He treasures the connection before following her over the edge.   
They lay wrapped in each other’s arms, catching their breaths and bask in the touch of each other.   
“I’m sorry I left you. It killed me leaving you, but I had to. I couldn’t bare to see you get hurt.” She tells him.  
“You’re home and you’re safe.” He rumbles. “But you know I’ll never letting you go now.” She giggles and pulls him down for another kiss.  
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” For a long time she traces her fingers across his face, memorising it by touch. “I love you.” She tells him, voice full of worship.  
He captures one hand and presses long kisses to each calloused finger. “I love you.” He repeats.  
Their next bout is slow and gentle, lengthy. Taking their time to worship each other and just enjoy the sensations.  
Around dinner time he convinces her to shower and dress with promises that Bumblebee has collected her a meal and the Autobots wishing to star gaze with her.  
When she exits the barracks Optimus scoops her up and deposits her upon his shoulder, trusting in her balance to remain there. Bumblebee spots them and hurries over, grabbing her up and holding her to his face while he croons at her. Her laughter rises up as she stokes his face plates, enjoying the ‘Bots joy at seeing her.  
“I missed you too bro.” She speaks fondly. He eventually places her down on the roof ledge and rummages in one of his compartments, gently extracting a styrofoam container with a plastic fork on top. He holds it out to her and she moves forward with both arms extended and a peaceful smile on her face. A second later four bulky, humanoid bodies impact her torso from the front. She falls on the roof on her back with both sets of twins holoforms hugging her waist.  
A hiss of pain escapes her lips, unheard by the four youngsters who babble greetings into her body.  
“Are you four out of your processors!” Ratchet bellows, snatching all four holoforms up in his servo. The combined grip lifts Sam as well until their grips break. She lands in a crouch on the roof with her arm tucked across her front.  
Another holoform materialises in front of her and gently helps her upright. Ironhide then pulls her forward into a gentle hug as Drift appears behind him. Sam extends a hand out for him to slap her palm. She soaks in the rare show of affection from the gruff ‘Bot and shares a smile when he pulls away.   
“Do you have no concept of a dislocated shoulder? The swelling and tissue damage exacerbated by not being relocated for several hours is severe. I told you all to interact gently.” Ratchet lectures them after cancelling their holoforms.  
‘Bee hands her her food again and she settles cross legged on the roof to eat, watching the lecture with mirth in her eyes.   
Long after she’s finished eating and listens to the gossip of the base, she starts watching the shadows behind her from the corner of her eye. A sudden movement causes her to jump the fist and pull herself up on the extended arm, gripping it with her thighs and raising a hand back in a threatening manner.   
The ‘Bots startle, half stepping forward to defend her before registering that the attacker is Mike. Both combatants hold frozen before Sam relaxes her fist and pats both cheeks on his face, both of them releasing laughter.   
When her feet touch the roof she’s swamped by bodies, trapping her in the centre of a large group hug. Languages of all nations bubble happily between the the ten heads of the Rebel Line. Their group mingle easily with the Autobots, standing in little groups to converse.   
Sam takes the opportunity to get Oki alone, a full glass of whiskey held in her hand. “So I’m guessing he doesn’t know yet?” She asks quietly, leaning back against the railing guard. The woman pales. “So nobody knows?” Oki chews her lip and her eyes fill with tears, Sam draws her into a one armed hug. “Hey, your father’s dead – I made sure of it.” Oki glances to Alexander. “He’s going to be thrilled.”  
They break the hug. “How’d you know?”   
“Women know these things. Trust me. You need to tell him and if he doesn’t want the baby I’ll be there for you. And if you want him to disappear…” she leaves the statement open ended. Oki laughs, wiping her eyes. She eventually manages to draw the other women back into the group, making sure to subtly wave the pair away when the heads start to depart.  
“I’m not happy with your alcohol consumption.” She graces Ratchet with a quizzical look.   
“Best of luck with that.” She retorts, joining the twins’ and Bumblebee’s holoforms.   
She relaxes happily back into the familiar body when a pair of arms encircle her waist. Optimus presses his nose into the hair behind her ear, passing words only for her.  
The ‘Bots standing around them can’t help the warmth the view gives them. The pair rarely show such affection in plain view, preferring to keep their personal relationship just that, personal. To see the older ‘Bot so content, so relaxed in her presence showed how much he had missed her. He’d searched far and wide for three months and now she was back where she belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out time will jump forwards more often


	19. UN invites

Oki’s secret lasted all of one night before Alexander is announcing to everyone his partner’s pregnancy. This ends up leading to a Rebel Line party to celebrate the coming of a new generation. A party that is extended out to the whole Nest base.  
Lennox in particular enjoys teaching the new father all the tricks he’s picked up and offering as much guidance and support as the couple need.  
The months pass peacefully and calmly for the base, life moving ever forward.

The alarms blare out throughout the base causing Ironhide and Sam to break apart. They both connect with the comms system.  
We have movement a few miles out, fast moving. Around the size of a human, only running on all fours. Prowl announces. Three in total.  
Ironhide cancels his holoform and transforms, cannons whirling to life. Sam reaches to the back of her trousers and pulls free her pistol, the pair move towards the front gate.  
In the distance a trail of dust is kicked up from the three approaching jaguar Decepticons. They slow a few metres from the front gate.  
“That’s far enough boys.” Sam warns them, but keeps her gun pointed to the ground. Ironhide glances down at her, confused at her lack of aggression. The three jaguars slowly sit down, ears flat to their helms. “What are you doing here?” She sounds exasperated at them. The white coloured Decepticon whines low in his throat, one of his paws raised before him. Something pops up over the helm of the blue jaguar, spindly legs gripping between the plating that make up his neck.   
Ironhide’s cannon charge at the sight of Scalpel who raises his front two legs high in the air. “We seek sanctuary!” His vocals quiver.   
“Hang on ‘Hide.” Sam tells him, signalling for calm. The front gate opens with a twist of her wrist and she slowly walks out towards the four. Ironhide hovers for a moment, considering commanding her back or just taking a shot before she gets too close.   
All three jags’ ears perk up, tails whipping behind them. “Is it really that bad Scalpel?” She asks.  
“Too many of us are used in their anger.” The spider ‘Bot shakes.   
She eyes each in turn, noticing Scalpel’s right middle leg is broken, the thin metal snapped in half and hanging by fuel lines. Glit has several deep gouges along his white shoulder, Ravage is missing a section of amour on his hide and Howlback has dried energon under his belly.  
“It’s not for me to decide guys. I only get a vote on those from the families. Not Decepticons.” She tells them sadly.   
“You once considered us your soldiers.” Glit voices.  
“Yeah, when I headed the human-Decepticon family. I took you guys under my wing to protect you. I don’t have that authority here, I don’t command the Autobots.” She was aware of several Autobots moving out to the gate, Optimus hurrying out after ‘Hide’s comm report. “Only Prime can make that call.” She explains, kneeling down before Howlback. She sets the gun on the dirt beside her and confidently stretches out a hand to the blue jag, lightly tracing the cheek plates. The jag leans into the touch, a purr echoing from his chest.   
“Sam?” Optimus’ shadow covers the five.  
“They want sanctuary, Mini Cassettes are being targeted by the ‘Cons in their anger.” She explains, keeping her attention on the four before her. Glit suddenly stands and rubs his face against hers. Several weapons charge and aim at the sudden movement. Sam just wraps an arm under the neck of the white jag and rubs gentle fingers over the plating. Ravage comes to her other side and arches his back, rubbing his flank along her shoulder.  
Optimus watches this interaction, weighing up their options. “Bring them into our hanger, we shall discuss this.” She smiles softly at Glit resting her forehead against his helm.  
“Come on boys.” She whispers, standing gracefully to her feet and scooping the pistol up. Scalpel jumps and scrabbles up her arm, his quick movement causing more weapons to charge and aim at him. With an eep her ducks behind her neck and reaches one leg up, pulling her bun free and using her hair as a curtain. She chuckles at his antics, motioning for calm. A second later the surgical scalpel is thrust out between her hair, extended next to her face. She takes the offered blade and slips it into her boot. She pats her leg, signalling the three jaguars to follow her.  
They come in close to her, a wrong move on the uneven ground would knock her legs into them, but the four move with practiced ease.  
Once inside the hanger the door gets rolled shut, Autobots stepping up to block access. Sam moves over to one of the berths in the back corner, spins gracefully and settles regally into a seated position. Glit jumps up on the berth and sits at her shoulder, Ravage leans into her leg and Howlback leans his head into her lap. She lifts her hands to her shoulders and sweeps her long hair aside, but Scalpel scuttles back, hiding deeper in her locks.  
“Scalp’.” She huffs.   
“No.” Comes a petulant response. She sighs before darting her hand out and grasping the back of the mechs neck, dragging him out of hiding. Once off her shoulder she teases locks of hair from his armour and sets him in her lap.  
“Talk.” She commands. And they do, talking about life in the faction and what protection Alpha One afforded them. They discuss the situation since Alpha left, playing holovids of their experiences. Glit hides his helm into her neck with a faint tremble in his frame at one particular video. She turns into his helm.  
“Calm little one. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Several optic ridges rise at the Cybertronian that comes from her mouth.   
“We will grant you sanctuary.” All heads whip round to Prime. “But your weapons will be turned over and you will have an escort throughout your stay here.” The four mechs rise quickly and nod their agreements.   
“Let’s get you four fixed up.” Sam comments.   
The second Mike enters the room with Rachet and First Aid, the three jaguars charge him jovially. The man, much like Sam greets them like friends, familiar and warm.  
It doesn’t take the four mechs long to settle in with the Rebel Line family, quickly falling under Sam’s tutorage and instruction, granted by Optimus.

“That looks very official.” Sam comments leaning over his shoulder.  
“That’s very distracting.” He responds, trying to focus on the invitation in his hands.  
She presses in closer and whispers into his ear. “I know.” She grins.  
He sits back slowly as she presses an open mouthed kiss to the skin below his ear. He spins out of the chair suddenly and before she knows it he’s cornered her against the desk, bracketing her in with a hand resting on either side of her. He leans down to her and hovers his mouth over hers.  
“Is this distracting?” He teases.  
“You distract me daily.” He kisses her, resting his hands on her hips. He picks her up and sits her on his desk, stepping between her legs without breaking the kiss.  
The door behind her suddenly swings open. “Have you read-“ Sam shoots up from the desk and steps away. Optimus presses his hands into the desk and hangs his head. “Eh…” Lennox and Ironhide freeze in the doorway. “Should have knocked.” Lennox comments awkwardly.   
“Yeah…I’m gonna…go.” Sam says, slipping between the pair in the doorway and escapes into the hallway.  
“I assume you’ve read your invite to the UN? They want you to make a speech and after they are holding a banquet and ball.” Lennox walks further into the room.  
“This will be a good opportunity to build on existing friendships with allies.” Optimus agrees.  
“You’ll need a military suit for the speech,” Lennox points out. “I’ll get onto our tailor and get a design for you.”  
“Do you think Sam would like the ball?” The other two throw Prime bemused looks. “I just thought…she might…dance. You know like –“   
“I think she’d love to go as your date.” Lennox saves him from his stumbling.

Ironhide and Prime stand still for the military tailor as he takes their measurements and stands next to Sam, conversing over styles. They flick through the sketch pad and pursue the different ideas Sam and Mike came up with.   
“If she dresses me in pink I’m going to spray paint her Katanas purple.” Ironhide grumbles, looking over the material pinned to his form. Prime snorts at his comment, trying to hold still while they pin the rough material for his jacket.  
“You touch my Katanas and I’ll go for your cannons.” Sam responds from her corner. A deep chuckle echoes from Optimus.  
“How come you aren’t wearing military dress?” Ironhide bites back.  
“I’m not military. A suit will suffice for me.” She responds, nodding at the final design. “I need to take you guys to the mall for your tuxedos later. You too Lennox.”  
“I am not wearing a penguin suit.” The man grumbles.  
“No military wear is implicitly stated on the invite. Besides Oki and Alexander need to shop for baby stuff.” She gives a soft smile. “How far can your holoforms travel without your alt?” She switches gears.  
“As far as a battery pack can travel. We can travel five miles from the pack.” Optimus explains, stepping down from the stool.   
“Awesome. I’m driving.” She smirks.

The second the main gate opens the two cars roar forward in a game. Bumblebee, Ironhide and Jolt race after the cars. Optimus should be disapproving of their game on the deserted road but a smile bursts into life at Sam’s whoop of joy.   
She’s driving a ’67 Impala while Alexander drives a Mustang. They drive side by side and Optimus actually grasps the handle over his door when neither lift off their accelerators, a hairpin bend up ahead that follows the edge of the mountain range dropping down.  
Sam slams down her gears and grabs the hand break, spinning the steering wheel into the turn. He slams his eyes closed as a weightless feeling takes him.  
“You have to teach me that!” Bumblebee barks over the comm in the car. Optimus looks about himself, shocked to see they’re still on the road.  
“It’s called drifting ‘Bee – Look it up!” She slides the car into another turn before they reach the lower road.  
Both assassins slow their game when they join the main highway and navigate to the closest city and mall.  
Sam leaves the men to shop for tuxs while her and Oki slip off to coo over baby items. By night fall they have every thing picked out and loaded into the topkick, much to the weapon specialist’s grumbling.  
Optimus can’t help smiling at the peaceful smile on Sam’s face. “I can’t wait to meet this little one.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to Prime’s cheek before starting up the car and returning them to the base.


	20. The Middle East

“And this is Israel’s Prime Minister and Secretary of Defence…” Prime’s guide motion to three approaching men, “they have a team of ten-“

“Good afternoon Sirs, I have had the pleasure of working alongside your ten military men. They are an honour to your Nation.” He extends his hand to the Prime Minister who shakes it warmly.

“Thank you Prime, they speak very fondly of you too.” The man switches to English for Lennox’s benefit. Introductions are passed with Lennox, Ironhide and Prowl and then they turn to the Israeli third man.

The man steps past Prime and extends a hand to Sam. “ _Alpha One, always a pleasure._ ” He speaks in a language that stumps everyone. Optimus takes a moment to run a translation, Sanskrit coming up as the nearest match.

 _“It has been far too long Abdiel.”_ Sam responds with a smile. _“I hear that your father has been most unwell. For sometime I have come to understand._ ”

“Well, it would appear they know of each other. You no doubt will have a long line of allies wishing to greet you, so I shall leave you to it.” The Prime Minister says, nodding his head politely and turning away.

“ _What are you even doing here?”_ Her mask displays a cheerful vision but anger simmers beneath the surface.

“ _Business if you must know.”_

 _“A likely story Abdiel. Do you conduct business in the snakes pit_?”

_“I do business outside of the family. It’s worth having this lot in my pocket.”_

_“Now I’m concerned.”_

“ _May we take a walk Alpha_?” Sam flashes him a warm smile and motions to the balcony. She makes a quick hand gesture that Prime translates as ‘be right back’ and then they move away.

The remaining group exchange concerned looks but let the pair go, starting up their comms systems to listen in.

“ _You’re looking well Alpha-_ “

“ _It’s Sam_.” Facing out to take in the view she casts a dark look at the man.

“ _You’re looking well sister_.” He leans on the railing, ducking his head to look her in the eye.

“ _No thanks to you_.” She snarls.

“ _I tried! My father-_ “

“ _Has been in a coma for close to six months. But I’m sure he’s been talking through his mouth piece from the spirit realm. My sources tell me that mouth piece is you brother._ ”

“ _You know the ‘Cons sister. What can I possibly do to dissuade them from their actions_?” He waves a hand in a ‘what can you do’ gesture.

_“Has greed turned you from the mission? You once believed in the old mission, same as I. Were we not the ones who found the documents of old? Who translated the words that predate ancient civilisation?”_

“ _We were foolish_.” It’s little more than a whisper.

“ _Come home with me brother._ ” She pleads.

 _“I cannot_.”

“ _Your cousin and twenty of his finest came over to my side. Why not you_?” She gestures back into the building.

“ _I won’t turn my back on them_.”

“ _Come home with me! Please brother._ ” She steps closer and grasps his hand between hers.

“ _No. I must continue my father’s work. The new mission still stands_.” He turns away and rushes back inside.

“ _This will end in bloodshed brother_!” She snaps harshly over her shoulder, he pauses in the doorway facing into the room.

“ _One of us will die. Mark my words. For the family you will die by my hands_.” He slips back inside.

“ _You’re breaking my heart_.” She whispers, gripping the rail tightly and staring out into the sky. She only moves when the bell rings for the return to the chambers. Her mask snaps into place once more as she slips seamlessly into her place behind Optimus.

Only once they are safe inside the car, returning to the hotel, does Optimus ask what happened. Her gaze drifts outside before she speaks, monotone and without emotion. Ironhide and Lennox exchange concerned frowns.

“When I was remade he was there. Abdiel, the son of the head of the Middle East family. He had been gravelly injured in a mission and Megatron implanted Cybertronian mechanics in him to save him. He was the first. He was the one who saved me. Remade me. He then took me for two years to train within his family. He became my brother in all but blood. And now he’s head of the family.”

“That’s why you skipped the Middle East.” Lennox asks quietly. “Not because of what they did to you recently, but because of who he is to you.” There is no accusation in his tone, but she still flinches as though he’d struck her.

“There is a reason he is here today. You should be careful around him.”

“What wound was repaired?” Sam glances to Ironhide, meeting his gaze.

“His heart. He survived long enough for repair but his injury would have left him crippled. So they gave him a spark, a new arm and new lungs. Most of what is in me is also in him.”

“You mean you have a spark?” Lennox blurts out. Sam gives him a wistful smile, tapping her chest.

“No, my heart is still my own.”

_Abdiel stands next to his father in his best robe and head wear, waiting for the plane steps to descend. Megatron had ordered the Middle East family to train his newest human commander. He did not expect the pale skinned woman to alight from the plane. Raw scaring peppers her face, dark hair pulled back in a pony tail. She’s short and thin, face locked in a scowl._

_She stops before his father and bows to him._

_“Thank you for having me sir.” She speaks, accent indiscernible._

_“We are pleased to have you here Alpha. You will be under the care of my son, Abdiel.” The pair shake hands._

_“An honour sir.” She replies formally._

_“I feel there’s more than tactics I should teach you girl.” His father shoots him a dark look._

_“It’s the 21st century pops, we need to make her a true assassin. Not a military gal.”_

Lennox helps the three mechs to straighten their tuxedos while they wait for Sam. The group and their backup team are staying in the penthouse apartment of a nearby hotel. Sam, being the only female, had excused herself from their numbers to get dressed and dolled up for the banquet and ball. Right now Lennox is trying to fix ‘Hide’s bow tie while the mech grumbles and shuffles about.

“Stand still, fragger!” He reprimands. Optimus gives the mech a grin when he huffs.

Prowl suddenly nudges his elbow, nodding his head to the stairs behind Prime when he looks up. Optimus turns slowly and the world narrows down to only her.

She gracefully descends the stairs, lifting the edge of her dress up so as not to trip on it. Her dress is verdant green, dark and in a velvet material. Spaghetti straps and a low cleavage display at the front. As she turns the curve of the stairs he spies the back of the dress, cut down to her lower back. The dress stops just off the floor, giving a glimpse of open toed stiletto shoes in black. The skirt is fitted at the waist and flows over her hips, A line in shape. A black, oriental style shawls decorated in flowers covers her shoulders and hangs beneath her arms. Her make up is light, eyes framed in liner that darken her hazel gaze. Strokes of green eyeshadow add to the effect. Her hair is twisted in a knot at the back, tumbling loose curls over her shoulders.

Optimus steps closer and extends a hand out to her. She places her smaller hand into his and allows him to help her down the last steps. She stops before him, one hand resting on his chest, the other remaining in his hand.

“You look beautiful.” He whispers reverently. She gives him a shy smile, peaking up from her eyelashes.

“You clean up well yourself.” She comments, straightening his lapels. He ducks down to press a chaste kiss to her dark red lips. She hums lightly at the touch. Reluctantly breaking away she glances over the other males.

“Not bad boys.” She complements with a cheeky grin. Bumblebee and Epps poke their heads over the back of the sofa and let out echoing wolf whistles. “Don’t wait up.” She winks at the pair and threads her arm through Prime’s, fingers caressing the inside of his elbow.

The banquet was regal, one long table with all the representatives spread down the hall. Once the meal has finished everyone is guided into the large dance hall. Prime collects two champaign glasses and moves their group to the wall overlooking the dance hall. They interact willingly with all persons who approach them, Sam preferring to let the four talk business and politics.

Once Prime has finished his glass she slips it from his hands while he talks with the Prime Minister of Britain. She slips away to the bar and collects some fresh drinks, turning her head minutely when a second body stands next to her.

“ _I heard a rumour that you had switched your relations to the other brother_.” Abdiel converses in Sanskrit. She turns to fully face him, resting against the bar and feeling very bare without her weapons.

“ _None of your business brother._ ” She responds.

“ _You consort with those creature, forming relations with them. You can walk away from it all. Come back with me and all will be forgiven. We can destroy these creatures and rebuild anew._ ” He reaches out and moves a lock of her hair over behind her ear.

A new body moves in close behind Sam, resting a hand on her hip.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” Prime speaks. “Optimus Prime.” He holds a hand out to him.

“Abdiel.” The man responds, voice dark and dangerous as he grips the mechs hand with great force. “Till later sister.” He turns away and mingles back into the crowd.

“ _You’re a fool brother_.” Sam whispers. She glances back at Optimus and gives him a sad smile. They each pick up their drinks and Optimus takes her hand, leading her back to their little corner.

Bumblebee and Ironhide race past the semi, cutting in front and pulling ahead. Optimus touches the Bluetooth on his ear.

“If you two get a ticket you’re paying for it yourselves.” Laughter is his only response.

“Let them have their fun.” Sam nudges his arm. “‘Bee’s been bored silly and ‘Hide hates politics.” Optimus releases the wheel and extends his hand out to her. She threads her fingers with his and laughs when he presses a kiss onto the back of her hand.

As he rounds the bend his eyes get drawn to several cars on the hard shoulder, one man has the boot of the car open and pulls something cylindrical and heavy onto his shoulder. He spins to face Prime with a twisted grin on his face.

Optimus has just enough time to tighten the seatbelt across Sam’s chest and simultaneously throw an arm across her front. The rocket launcher spits a round that cuts straight through the engine and throws the front wheels into the air. And then they are thrown end over end, spinning off the road and down the embankment.

His holoform cuts out as his transformer programming kicks in, rolling him out into his true form and onto his side. As his vision darkens he spots Sam sprinting through the rain, lightening forking out behind her. Blood is gushing down her face from her scalp and seeps down her arm from a shoulder wound. She’s frantically shouting something, but he’s deaf to her words as his systems shut down.

When Orion’s helm flops limp to the ground Sam turns back to the road, watching as multiple figures slide down the embankment. She pulls her gun from her waist band and places herself between the assassins and her love.

“This ends here sister.” She trains the gun on Abdiel.

“Bring it!” She snarls. Gunfire erupts into the mass of assassins from above and Sam targets those closest to her.

Bumblebee and Ironhide roll down and engage the group before they get organised. Abdiel swings into view and snaps his long knife over the back of her hand, making her drop her gun. She punches him in the face in return and pulls her own blade from the holding on her arm.

“You can walk away from this brother.” She pleads as they circle each other.

“No. I’ll kill you and then we’ll kill all of these aliens. It’s time to get back to the old ways.” He responds, darting forward and driving his blade between her ribs. She slashes his throat and pulls away, the blade ripping free. They spit and hiss, throwing punches and kicks, swiping their blades with deadly aim. A swipe across his face cuts down to the metal in his jaw and he steps back with bared teeth.

“It’s time to burn them all to the ground! Starting with him!” His rage charges him forward, crouched low his shoulder comes up into her gut and carries her backwards. Her back slams painfully into the tree trunk, the air knocked from her lungs. Instinct makes her raise her hand up and wrap around his wrist, his dagger stopping centimetres from her head. His own enhanced strength fighting hers, arms quacking with the strain.

She thrusts her own blade forward, slicing clumsily along his side. The downpour almost caused her grip on the blade to loosen. She throws her knee up catching his diaphragm and he pulls back. She advances.

_“I’m fairly sure this isn’t proper, brother.” Abdiel glances up the rope he’s hanging from, seeing Alpha peering past her hips to see him beneath her._

_“I consider this your education sister. Where’s your sense of adventure?” He teases, sliding lower down the rope. His feet touch the ground and he steps back to let her slide the rest of the way to the floor of the cavern._

_Some of the old historical texts led them here to the original Family base. It took them a week to dig through and discover a basement level of the ruin._

_“You’re too up tight, Alpha. You need to live a little.” She raises a dark eyebrow and blinds him with her torch. He gets a hand before his face to block the light, squinting to see her tanned face._

_“Come on idiot, scans show the tunnel opens up down here.” He hurries after her and pulls her into a side hug, she nestles in shyly, still unused to familial touch._

Optimus comes online with the blare of warning alarms and flashing lights in his load up visual. The cries of battle rise up around him, but one feminine cry makes his spark tense up. He turned his optics to his left to see a man charging at him with a package in his hand, pulled back at his shoulder ready to throw.

The man suddenly stumbles, a stunned look on his face. He drops to his knees as blood bubbles up in his mouth. A petite figure appears behind him, hand on his back. She pulls something from his flesh and simultaneously grabs the explosive, hurling it towards a group of shrouded people. The device disappears between their bodies and then a bright flash appears. Blood and gore spraying in all directions.

Prime turns back to the woman who has moved to stand at the man’s front. The glint of a blade in her hand and then it is thrust into the man’s throat. He convulses violently and topples backwards.

The woman falls over the top of him, pulling him up into her arms where she bows over him. She speaks words in Hebrew, a prayer for the dead as she rocks him.

He raises a hand and rests it upon her cheek, soundless words on his lips. The light slowly slips from his eyes and his body goes lax.

The woman’s chest heaves, tears cutting through the mask of blood on her face. She clutches him bodily to her, head tipping back. The anguished scream of the tormented tears through the skies as her eyes slam shut.

“Sam.” Optimus whispers. She is deaf to his words as she curls over the man and sobs into his hair.

“Prime!” Ratchet drops down next to him, pushing him onto his back and frantically trying to stop the energon flowing from his chassis. His systems return to stasis, his last view of his spark beloved rocking the body of her brother. Her loud sobs covering the near silent battlefield.

_She stands shoulder to shoulder with his father, being introduced to each Family group as they enter his father’s second palace. Each elder pair enter the banquet room, their adult children staying with Abdiel to wait on Alpha._

_Once his father and Alpha turn to follow the last in Family in, he snags her arm and pulls her into the middle of the younger group. He proudly shows her off as the group close ranks and pull her into hugs and hand shakes._

_She settles easily, enjoying the contact and languages. Her hand finds his and squeezes it firmly in thanks. Having her brother by her side eased her worries of human interaction with those closer to her estimated age._


	21. Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rituals of the Family come forth

The next time he awakens he stares at the med bay ceiling, the aches of recent injuries running through his chassis. Ratchet appears in his view.  
“Welcome back.” He murmurs down.   
“What happened?” He asks.  
“Abdiel hit you with a high intensity round. It damaged your spark chamber, tore you up pretty bad.”  
“Sam?” He suddenly asks trying to sit up. Ratchet vents a sigh but helps him to sit, his optics drifting up to the rafters overhead. Optimus glances up, just spotting her shadowed form in the corner with her head is down. He follows the direction to see one of the hospital beds set up near the door. He can make out a body under the sheet.  
“She put him down.” Ratchet explains quietly. “She didn’t want to leave you and couldn’t leave him. She won’t even let me tend her injuries.” Both ‘Bots startle when she lands on the edge of the berth beside them.  
“I can hear you, you know.” She comments, standing from her crouch. The mud and blood has been washed away and her clothing changed. There are stitches in her hair line and a patch work of bruises on the left side of her face. Thick bandages on her shoulder and more under her clothing. Her knuckles and fingers are black.  
“I’m sorry Sweetspark.” Optimus tells her.  
“It was between you and him, the choice was easy.” Her voice is devoid of emotion.   
Ratchet reaches past him and flips a switch. A back up generator comes online, registering in Prime visuals. “That will power your holoform, but you must remain on the berth.” The mech turns away and leaves the med bay.  
His holoform blinks into space before her. From down here he can see the signs of a lack of sleep, the faint tremors in her limbs from a lack of food. Her eyes refuse to meet his.  
“Sam?” He steps closer, placing his fingers under her chin and tilting her face up. “I’m sorry you had to make such a choice.” She violently shakes her head, stepping back out of range. “Sam –“  
“Don’t!” She snaps. “Don’t you dare be kind to me! Don’t you dare even try to understand!” He catches her shoulders to hold her still. Tears well up in her eyes. She fights him without harming him, just trying to tear herself free of his grasp.  
“Sam, I never wanted you to have to make that call.” The tears fall down her cheeks and she suddenly lunges forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.  
“You don’t understand!” She sobs. “I didn’t even think, I just had to save you! It was never about choosing one over the other. It was always just you!” He holds her tight and just lets her break. 

Hours later finds a mixture of the Rebel Line, NEST and Autobots gathered outside having a quick meeting.  
“We need to explain the funeral process.” Alexander states, eyes raking the gathered group.  
“Why?” Sideswipe asks.  
“Because what you’ll witness will freak you out, so I’m making sure you understand the ceremony. And so you don’t interfere.” Oki explains.  
“We’re listening.” Prime encourages.

The pyre was built and Abdiel’s body was wrapped in the shroud. Sam and Yoseph are stood at opposite sides of the body facing each other. One of the Rebel’s raises a blue tank above their heads and pours water over them both. Once fully drenched they both climb up the wooden structure, Sam standing over the head and Yoseph at the feet.  
Yoseph crouches over his feet and Sam over his head. As one they each draw their blades and cut a line into their heads, back to back with each other. They both paint their blood over their own faces in a pattern on their forehead and cheeks. Once finished Sam paints similar patterns to Abdiel’s covered face while Yoseph paints two symbols on his ankles. Once done they rise back to their feet and hold their stance.  
Several assassins step forward out of the darkness and place torches under the pyre. The flames rise, following the pattern of accelerant. The fire quickly consumes the wood beneath the top platform, licking beneath their feet.  
Mike places a firm hand to Prime’s shoulder to stay him as the flames rise up around Sam, but she doesn’t move. For an immeasurable length of time she stands, staring out into the dark as the flames close in.  
And then they both step off the pyre, pacing until they are clear of the flames and turning back to face the fire. Sam holds out her bleeding hand as one of their number steps forward and retrieves a Katana from the flames. The steel of the blade is pressed into her palm where she grips it tight, smoke rising between her fingers. She holds it for several seconds and then releases it.  
She slowly sinks to one knee and bows her head as those gathered start up a lyrical chant in an ancient language. The noise grows in intensity as the flames do.  
They only move once the song has finished, Sam rising gracefully to her feet where she stands shoulder to shoulder with the assassins, waiting for the flames to extinguish.   
When only embers remain the dark mass slip away back into the night, disappearing from human eyes.

Prime leads the Autobots and NEST soldiers up to the roof of the assassin’s building, groups carrying lanterns. They had been warned not to turn any lights on within their building as their tradition prohibited such from happening after the burning.   
Their numbers filter off to join various assassins settled at the scattered tables. Ironhide, Ratchet, Lennox and Epps join Prime as they make their way to the bar. Yoseph and Sam are sitting on the stools with their backs to them. Ratchet moves behind the bar, gathering various items together and placing the lantern before the pair. They have both rid their faces of their blood masks and are dressed in dry clothing. None too gently Ratchet pours vodka on both their burned hands and cleans each wound, tying an ice packet to their palms from the chest freezer.  
The clock above the bar chimes nine pm, making Sam stand to her feet and vault the bar top. “Bar’s open.” She calls out.  
From the chest fridge built into floor she pulls cases of larger and cider, placing them on the bar. She lines up dozens of glasses and starts pouring out whiskey and vodka. Once the movement of people slows she then starts pouring out specifically requested mixers, moving with familiarity in her tasking.  
Once everyone has settled back at their tables she turns to the remaining men, wiping the bar clean. “Pick your poison.” She states. Yoseph picks up his pack of cigarettes, placing one in his mouth and one out to her. She grasps it with her mouth and pulls a silver zippo from her jeans pocket, flicking the lid back and clicking her fingers above the flint to light it. They both lean into the flame until the ends light up.   
“Beers are fine.” Ratchet purses his lips at the cigarettes but doesn’t push the issue. She goes back to the fridge and pulls some beers out, the cigarette dangling from her lips.  
“What’s your strongest drink, bar wench?” Epps laughs, settling upon the stool opposite her.  
“Devil’s anus.” She answers with a straight face.  
“Seriously?” Epps and Lennox asks together.  
“It’s the only drink you’re getting all night mind.” She warns them, leaning the cigarette over the ash tray and pulling up another trap door revealing a small safe. With practiced ease she unlocks it and pulls out a black, glass bottle. She pulls the cork out and pours four glasses, nudging one to Yoseph who’s cutting up a lime. He squeezes the juice into each glass.  
Epps picks up his glass and makes the mistake of breathing in the aroma of the alcohol. He starts coughing so violently that both Yoseph and Sam snatch their cigarettes out the way.  
“Careful! It’s almost 100% proof you idiot!” Sam reprimands him, stubbing hers out.  
“The fuck I’m drinking that!” Epps gasps, snatching up a beer instead.  
Lennox takes a small sip, making sure not to breath in and also starts coughing violently. Ratchet storms off before he has an aneurism.  
Both Sam and Yoseph share a smile and chink their glasses, each savouring the burn. Prime and ‘Hide eye the remaining glasses cautiously but brave a sip.  
“Tastes like high grade.” ‘Hide quips with a faint smile. The bar roof contains only the quiet buzz of low conversation as their allies slowly raise their somber mood. Their own little group stay quiet, preferring to sip their drinks and listen to the noise build around them.  
“‘ only leaves th’ African forces now.” Yoseph quietly points out, turning his empty glass in his hand.   
“I didn’t think we’d get this far.” Sam confesses. “I thought for sure we’d be out manned and out manuvered.” She leans into Optimus side, unconsciously seeking his comfort. He drops an arm about her shoulders and eyes her empty glass. Ratchet frowns at her, poking her arm to see if she’d notice.  
“I would like t’ point out tha’ you are solely re’ponsible f’r most o’ th’r deaths.” Yoseph slurs heavily, cushioning his head onto his crossed arms.  
“I didn’t think I’d come back.” She whispers, giving the man a fond smile as he drifts off to sleep. The three ‘Bots freeze up, realising that she hadn’t meant to voice that thought.   
She freezes suddenly as her eyes fix on something on the bar top. In a move that only a sober person should be able to carry out, she turns her glass upside down and catches something on the bar, crouching slightly to peer through the glass. “Scott!” She hisses over her shoulder. “Your fucking scorpion is on my bar again.” She snarls.  
“Oh shit.” A British voice pipes up behind her. “Sorry Sam, I thought he was still on my table.” The man removes the creature.  
Sam presses in close to Optimus’s side, ducking as though to hide against him. “It’s like that thing knows I get freaked out by it.” Optimus chuckles and pulls her bodily against him.  
“I think it’s time for bed.” He rumbles into her ear, his lips curling slightly when he feels a slight shiver cut through her.


	22. Chapter 22

_“So you and Abdiel found this text?” Alexander asks, regarding the ancient and crumbling scroll laid out on the table._

_“Oki’s been helping us translate it.” Alpha responds, attention fixed on the floating screen before her._

_John steps forward with Fen behind him. The three men read the translations in their own languages while the two woman converse over one section. Abdiel stands across from them, arms folded tight over his chest._

_“Once translated, I’ll be sending the text out to everyone. This is our chance to be free of them.” The venom in his voice makes everyone look to the man. Silence bears down as no one has a valid come back to that._

_And no one wants to ask who ‘them’ is. The possibilities were endless_.

 

The weeks pass by uneventfully, although it is noted that Sam spends a lot of time with Wheeljack and Q, holed up in their lab for lengthy periods of time. The assassins also organise a full training mission that is kept very hushed up on details. The only thing anybody knows is the date and time. They also give a warning for nobody to interfere in the training when it’s under way.

Two days before the training Sam calls a meeting of the senior officials in the secure meeting room. She reveals the mission to those present so they know what to expect.

“So Oki is out of commission on this one and her second is stepping into play for this.” Epps throws the woman a grin where she sits, resting her hand on her ever expanding belly. “It’s going to be in the open plain before the town. Us ten versus the two hundred odd. Aim of the game is for them to work together to bring us down. With that many I’m banning live rounds and live blades. Shock weapons and batons or poles only.” She explains.

“That’s a bit arrogant to assume ten of you can take on two hundred.” Epps points out.

“We’re the ten best in the world. Well, nine best and mediocre tenth.” A pen sails past her head.

“See what I mean.” She quips.

The ten heads step into a line and watch the approaching forces that march out to them. The blare of a siren marks the start of the training and the forces split open, circling around the ten.

The ten turn back to back into their own circle.

“Bring them down!” An assassin shouts out.

Sam turns the watch face, strapped to her right wrist as the assassins raise their guns up to eye level and open fire. Blue light flares behind her eye and a flash passes beneath her skin.

Their shock rounds only get so far before they suddenly impact an invisible barrier that flares blue in a great arching dome.

“Our turn.” Sam smirks as the ten raise their own riffles and spray into the crowd.

“Just fucking charge them.” Is shouted over the noise.

Sam turns and runs at Mike and Alexander who break away from their aim and turn to face each other, clasping hands. Sam leaps onto their joined limb and is launched into the air.

She lands down in the mass of bodies and punches her fist into the ground. A charge of electricity bursts up from her fist and explodes outwards. A large part of the crowd collapse out cold. As Sam rises into a standing position a blue glow seeps from beneath her skin.

She pulls the batons from her thighs and charges into the mass moving towards her, tearing into them with flips and kicks, punches and swings. A heavy ball on a chain swings into the crowd and she drops as Yuk Shan swings the ball over her, hitting multiple targets as he wraps the chain about himself and pulls it back, swinging it behind him.

They cut through the assassins, working as a unit to decimate their forces. But the shear volume of combatants begin to pick them down.

Yuk Shan drops first with a charge round to his neck, head bouncing off the ground when he drops. Before too long there is only Sam left against twenty remaining forces.

“Yield!” One of them demand, pressing the baton into her throat. She throws her head back connecting with his skull and he drops behind her. She rushes forward throwing punches and kicks, downing several more.

One of them slips up behind her and swings a bat into the back of her neck. She drops onto her hands and knees, raising her head when another comes in front of her.

The man steps forward and smashes a boot into her face. Her head rocks back with the blow and she collapses backwards. Her head lolls to the side and she passes out.

Optimus strides out into the battle field, ignoring the cheers from the surviving twenty assassins. He directs his holoform into being next to her and kneels down by her side. The skin above her nose is split and blood slips down from her nostrils.

He turns to the man who kicked her and goes to stand when Ironhide grabs his shoulder.

“It was a training mission Prime. Leave it.” He warns him.

 

The first thing Sam feels when she comes around is a painful throbbing in her skull that matches her pulse. A moan of pain escapes her lips as she rolls slightly and pushes up into a sitting position, eyes slitted against the light.

“I think I’ve got a concussion.” She whimpers, cradling her head.

“What makes you say that.” Optimus asks, resting a hand to her shoulder.

She suddenly claps a hand over her mouth and rolls away, frantically waving to Ratchet. The mech just manages to get the kidney dish under her head when she vomits. Optimus gently pulls her hair back and rubs her back.

“Darling?” He gives Ratchet a concerned look.

“Human concussions include vomiting. You’re not sleeping for the next twenty four hours kid.” He holds out a bottle of water for her to rinse her mouth out. “You have no idea how badly I want to slap your head right now. All ten of you have concussions, most of your team will be out of action for the next few days. And that stunt with the electric charge? You’ve got a death wish! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

“Can you not lecture me when it feels like my skull’s being drilled into? I actually know how that feels by the way, so it’s an apt description for how I feel right now.”

“The rest are in the rec room, you can stay with them.” Ratchet huffs, supporting her as she swings her legs over the edge and wavers when she stands.

They help her out of the Autobot med bay and into their neighbouring rec room. She spies the other nine heads lying out in a tangled mass on the large corner sofa.

Shuffling over she burrows her way into the tangle of limbs, much to the bemusement of the two Autobots. She’s resting her head on Mike’s shoulder from above him, draped over Alexander’s torso, hugging Oki from behind and has her legs twisted up with Joel’s.

“None of you are allowed to sleep!” Ratchet barks, satisfied by the moans of pain his raised voice triggers. Sam reacts on instinct, snatching the remote control out of Oki’s hand and hurls it at the ‘Bot before she’s fully thought it through. It bounces off Ratchet’s head and Optimus barks a startled laugh, both at the look on the mech’s face and the absurdity of the action.

  
“You can shut up!” Ratchet hisses. “I can’t even retaliate.” He snarls, storming out of the room.

  
“Whilst I applaud your mass training session it did seem a bit…extreme.” Optimus states, folding his arms.

  
“We’re there any major injuries? Severe blood loss? Skull fractures? Broken necks or spines? Even broken legs or arms?” Mike asks.

  
“No.”

  
“Then that wasn’t extreme by our standards.” Mike turns to burry his face in Sam’s hair.  
  


“Optimus? We’re from different families and different training styles. We needed to make sure they can work fully together and without us ten heading them. The old way was to follow command only from the head. We need them to think for themselves and work flawlessly together.” Sam explain, she settles back on Mike’s shoulder.

“So we have a long time before sleep, so let’s run through the mission. It was a bit difficult to keep up with everyone.”

  
Optimus sinks into the chair across from them and watches as each person talks over what they witnessed, Oki helping them to piece together any bits they missed.

 


	23. What it means to be half human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight against the Family ramps up

They were meant to be linking in via satellite video to a world wide meeting, participating to provide input on the Decepticon and family movements. Instead they find none of the visual feeds working when they test the system. With half an hour to go, and an important meeting to be a part of, they are forced to set it up in the Autobot hanger. The humans gather around the platform table while the Autobots position themselves behind, to both view the screens and be seen on the hastily set up cameras.

The second Sam sets foot in the hanger her instincts start clawing for her attention. She sits Oki in the middle of the table and places herself on the edge, back to the staircase access.  
Half way through their meeting, Sam suddenly twists away from the feeling of eyes on the back of her neck and trusts her instincts to duck. The knife slices through her ear and sails past Oki as she leans to one side. And then chaos descends with explosions outside the hanger and gun fire within.

Sam dives out her chair as more knives embedd into the table, checking that Oki is now on the floor of the platform, arms wrapped around her belly.   
“Get her out of here!” She screams to the other assassins, throwing her own knife to the figure standing on the top step. The person topples over backwards and rolls the whole way down.

Sam swings her attention to the gun fire below as something large breaks through the hanger roof and blocks the main entrance. She can’t work out who’s friendly and whose not from her high point. Ironhide and Prime rise up and tackle the ‘Con back out the hanger, more explosions erupting in the Autobot hanger. 

Two gun men below swing their weapons up towards her and she makes her shot, putting them both down. 

She covers the circle of assassins who rush Oki down the stairs, guiding them over the comms to the clearest exit point. 

Something heavy lands on the table behind her as the group reach the threshold. She wheels round but the person throws a punch into her wrist, knocking the gun from her grip. Thrown off balance by the force of the blow she then takes a powerful heel kick to the sternum, strong enough to knock her clear through the railing behind her. 

The height of her fall gives her enough time to twist round and land on her hands and feet in a crouch. Two figures cut in behind her, caught on her proximity scans only to get tackled by Ravage and Glit. The two panthers tear the men’s throats out in retaliation. 

Her attacker jumps down before her and she dances back, trying to get a read on him. Faster than a human he appears before her and gets an upper cut under her chin. She lands painfully on her back, momentarily stunned. Automatically she crosses her arms and blocks the leg drop, throws him away and rolls herself backwards and onto her feet.

He rushes her again and she ducks, swiping out at his ankles to make him jump. Anticipating the move she springs into her hands, kicking up at his solar plexus and launching him into the air.

Pressing the advantage she rushes him in turn, throwing punches and kicks as he lands.  
They dance back and forth, each landing only glancing blows. He snatches up a steel plating and throws it at her head. She ducks straight into his toe punt and smacks back to the concrete. 

Howlback leaps over her to land on the man’s chest. The man impossibly stays standing and wraps his arms about the panthers torso, metal cracking audibly as he crushes the big cat. Sam rocks forward, pulling her knife out and slicing into his ankle, punches his knee and then jabs his ribs. His grip breaks and he drops the cat.

She rises up in a spinning kick to his throat and he flies backwards into the steel pillar, the metal denting with the impact.

She pursues him, throwing a punch to his face that he dodges. She finally gets a good look at his face now the baseball cap is gone. She freezes in shock and gets a jab to her throat for her error. He follows it up by goring into her and charging her backwards through the metal plating of the hanger.

They both tumble to the floor, rolling bodily over each other and trying to grapple for control.   
Sam manages to wrap herself around his arm and tries to lock her legs on his neck. He rises far enough on his knees to lift her up and then slams her back into the ground. Twice more he slams her, cracks spreading through the compact earth. 

Her grip slackens enough for him to wretch his arm free and she rolls away, trying to get her knees under herself to stand up. He manages to get to her and presses into her back, an arm looping under her chin. He rolls over onto his back, pulling her with him, legs locking around her waist, pulling his forearm across her throat. Like a vice he locks in and pulls her back. Her nails claw at his arm, trying to slip her fingers in to a gap while also trying to turn her chin away, trying every trick to break the choke hold.

Her vision darkens along the edges, the clouds above her blurring as her oxygen count drops.   
Just as her fingers and toes go numb and her limbs go weak she’s suddenly surrounded by a mass of bodies. Multiple hands tear at the arm across her throat and the legs on her waist, pulling and pushing from different directions. Arms wrap around her ribs and yank her none too gently up. The hold breaks and lands her on her hands and knees, forehead pressed into the dirt as she finally takes a breath.

Her mouth tastes of copper and her throat burns, but never has the act of breathing been so releasing.

“-am? S-?” She only now realises that sound is filtering back in. “Sam!” A heavy hand weighs on her shoulder and bodily shakes her. She raises her head and give Orion a bloody grin. He cups his large hand along her jaw. “Slow breaths darling.” He tells her. She drops her head as a coughing fit cuts through her, bloody droplets peppering the ground. “Where the frag is Ratchet?” He snaps.

“Oki went into labour. Human med bay’s been flattered Prime, we had nowhere else to take her.” John explains.

A roar sounds behind the man, drawing Sam’s attention to the attacker on the ground who is weighed down by several men. The attacker throws two off him and tries to stand.  
Sam wraps her hand around a twisted piece of steel and shoots to her feet swinging. The metal connects with his face and she falls clumsily over him, arm rising and falling, rising and falling with each swing. She doesn’t stop beating him until he stops moving, where by she rolls sideways and drops the makeshift bat. Sprawled out on her back she crosses her arms over her face and heaves for breath. An endless burning cuts through her lung. 

 

Sam lies on her back across the table top, listening to the arguing going on around her. An ice pack rests cross her throat.

“I’m telling you that’s Abdiel!” John shouts again. “I spent two month in Africa with him.” 

“John, he’s dead, ok? Because Sam fucking killed him!” Fen returns.  
“It looks a lot like him.” Yoseph adds quietly.

“Look, DNA won’t be back for 48 hours. So let’s stop speculating!” Mike tries to intervene. 

Almost hysterical laughter bubbles out of Sam, sounding like rusted metal with the damage to her throat. She covers her face with her hands and keeps laughing. The room goes deathly quiet.

“Please don’t have snapped Sam.” Yoseph comments, patting her leg.

She slowing sits forward, catching the ice pack and pulling her hands away. “I know exactly who that is.” She croaks, half her words little more than a whisper.

She stands to her feet and stalks from the room, weaving through the maze of corridors. She stops at the brig door and swipes a hand over the panel. The door swings open and she steps in confidently, stopping behind the empty chair.

The man sits, handcuffed to the table, strapped down with metal bindings to the chair. The chair in turn is bolted to the floor.

She grasps the empty chair back and drags it out, the scrapping of metal on concrete screeches in the silent room. Her eyes remain fixed on the youthful face of the man, cleaned of blood she gets a true look at his face. Her eyes rove his features trying to pick out familiar scars but finding only smooth skin.

She drops gracefully into the seat, rests her elbow on the table and leans forward to look him in the eyes. The brown colouring is lighter than she remembers. His complexion a fraction darker. His hair peppered with grey.

She rests her chin onto her joined hands. “You had even me fooled. You haven’t been in a coma all this time. You’ve been undergoing surgeries to give yourself life again. Am I right Aharon?”

The man gives a cocky smile and leans forward, as far as his restraints allow him. “Another few minutes and retribution would have been mine.” His grin is sharp and all teeth. “You killed my son you little slut! After we welcomed you into our home, trained you and gave you glory. You deserve to die little bitch.”

“You’re right. I did kill him. But I mourned him! I gave him the funeral he deserved. I mourn him still.” The end of her sentence breaks off into a shriek, voice straining to be heard. 

“You killed him. You killed my only boy!” He howls, throwing his head back in his pain. She reaches across the table and clasps his balled fists, rising up to reach him. He sobs pitifully, baying and screaming. 

She steps around the table and clutches him to herself. His head rocks forward to rest on her shoulder. She brushes her hand through his hair, cupping the back of his head and whispers to him. 

Optimus storms into the room making her turn part way towards him. Aharon uses the distraction to sink his teeth at the joint between her neck and shoulder. She gives a startled cry of pain and tries to pull away. Optimus punches him straight in the nose, making him release his grip with an animalistic roar.

Sam staggers away and slaps her hand across the wound. Blood slips between her fingers and seeps into her shirt. Optimus grabs her under the arm and drags her out the room.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He screams, both hands grasping her upper arms. “I told you not to go in there. That no one should talk to him alone.”

“I needed…needed to know! I couldn’t –“ he shakes her once.

“You weren’t thinking!” He roars at her. “Your guilt…he could’ve…” his anger slips away and he drags her into a hug, enclosing her in his familiar smell. 

After a spell he guides her back to the Autobot rec room and settles her onto the sofa. Scalpel crawls up her back and shoos her hand away, prodding at the bite mark with a wad of cotton. He cleans and dresses the wound, berating her actions. A woman’s agonised screams cuts through the room and a second later a baby’s wail follows.

Everyone in the room rises to their feet as though in a trance and turns to the med bay door with looks of wonder on their faces. Sam’s face splits into a grin and Orion slips into the space behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Ratchet opens the door and steps through. 

“They’re asking for her Godmother.” He says with a wide grin. Sam steps forward, tangling her fingers with Orion and dragging him with her.

The pair make their way over to the bed and chairs at the back wall. Oki is propped up in the bed, hair messy and face flushes, twin tear marks on her face. Alexander sits on one side of the bed, facing them but with his attention on the little bundle in Oki’s arms.

Sam releases Optimus’ hand and move closer, transfixed on the little bundle of blankets with a tuft of dark hair peaking out at the top.

“Oh guys!” She whispers reverently as she stares down on the sleeping babe. “She is beautiful.” 

She settles on the other side of the bed. “I’m so happy for you guys.” 

“Do you want to hold her?” Sam snaps her head to face 

“Really?” Oki leans forward with a wince and gently transfers the bundle into her arms.

“Hello little Mao Inna.” Sam coos down to the baby, fingers stroking over soft cheeks. A little hand reaches out and clumsily grasps her fingers.

Optimus stares in wonder at the view of Sam rocking the new born, head bowed and face open in reverence. He steps up behind her and peers down. 

Sam slips into Japanese. “I’m your Aunt Sam. And I’ll always be here to have your back and get you into and out of trouble. You have my loyalty and my blade. You will want for nothing. And you will have the last breath in my lungs. No harm shall befall you whilst I live.” 

She glances up to Alexander and Oki, slipping into Russian. “I will protect her ‘till my end.”

 

The heads and seniors stand in the meeting room, now up and running again. They realised after the fact that Aharon had sabotaged the systems so they could not have their meeting in the secure room, instead using the hanger to link up the video meeting.

Ratchet loads up his medical scans into the centre of the table, Optimus and Ironhide crowding in closer to the platform to watch.

“Much like you Sam, his chest cavity is metal, false lungs and ribs. However his digestive tract, liver and kidneys are all Cybertronian. All his limbs are metal too.” Ratchet explains.

“Hence how he’s stronger than me.” She comments.

“His spinal cord has chips and wires to enhance his speed and nanites to increase his healing. However his brain is untouched.”

“Most likely because his brain was not damaged.” Yoseph speculates.

“Like his son, he has a spark instead of a heart. It is most interesting, however, the function the spark has on his organic system. His cells are being regenerated, kept youthful and in perfect function.” The table is silent as they absorb the information.

“How long would a spark last? How long can it keep him in top condition?” John asks what they are all thinking.

“The nanites keep his system from mutating into cancer. His organic organs are no longer there. His spark can theoretically keep him young for tens of thousands of years. Only catastrophic injury can off line him.” Ratchet vents a sigh.

“He’s immortal!” Sam breaths. She releases a barked laugh and stands up, pacing away from the table. “Holy shit! He actually did it.”

“Do you mind sharing with the class?” Keller asks.

“Abdiel had this crazy notion of immortality. He said he knew how to create longitivity of life. He tested it on his own father, had the key within himself.” She turns to face Yoseph. “That’s why he wouldn’t come with me. Because his father’s operations were successful!” 

“So what do we do with him now?” Ironhide asks.

Mike places a leather bundle onto the table top, eyes fixed on Sam. She locks onto the bundle and slowly approaches the table. Her hand reaches out to touch the material, softly stroking it. Untying the knot she peels back the flaps and displays rows of sharp implements, scalpels and knives. Lost in her own world she passes her hands over each items, caressing the metal.

“He won’t crack, no matter what I do to him.” She speaks softly, throwing one of the flaps over to cover the torture devices. She turns away to face out over the railing, back to the rest with her arms folded over her chest.

“He’s too much of a risk alive.” Fen throws his thoughts in.

“We won’t be able to extract information from him.” Yuk Shan adds. 

“It’s better to execute him.” Darryl finishes.

 

The door to his brig room opens and he turns his head to face them. He has only a berth and a bucket in the room. His hands are chained together, his arms chained tight to his chest. His ankles too are bound. A metal collar is tight around his throat, chained to the wall that the berth rests beside. 

Optimus closes the door and leans against the wall beside the door frame. Eyes assessing the enhanced man.

Sam walks further into the room, stopping before him a few feet away. She slowly sinks to her knees and rests back on her heels, looking up into his face.

“We are a dying breed now.” She says. 

“The family or just us two?” He asks tiredly. She gives him a sad smile.

“Both I suppose. But I was meaning the family. There are a few individuals left from the families, but the last true force is the African group. When all are gone, we will rebuild. Following the old mission. Defending humanity once more.” 

He leans forward as far as the collar allows. “Is it not better to rule man?” He responds. “To control the worlds of business, politics, law enforcement and science. To control all from within?” 

Sam frowns and cocks her head to the side. “I once believed such, but now no more.”

“Then you have come to end me.” He sits back as regally as his restraints allow him. 

Sam pulls her pistol from the back of her waist band, resting the weapon in her lap with her eyes fixed on it. She turns the weapon a few times before speaking. “I can’t imagine living a hundred years, let alone tens of thousands. It is unnatural. And will only drive you to madness. I would not inflict that on anyone; man is not made for such length of time.” She pulls the hammer back and raises the gun in both hands. “Go and be with your son.”

“I’ll see you in Hell Alpha.” He raises his chin defiantly.

She gives him a grin, arms steady as she aims for his spark. “Save me a seat.” She squeezes the trigger. 

Ratchet collects the body and takes it to the incinerator upon her instructions. “It’s too dangerous for others to replicate this.”


	24. The last of the Family

The ten eleven heads gather around Red Alert reviewing the map. “This space is consistently scrambled. I can’t get a read on it.” The mech explains. “This is the earliest image I can read from.” The display shows a stone building surrounded by storage warehouses set deep in the desert.  
“Our storage base. Old and poorly maintained.” Fen explains. “Probably heavily fortified with the ‘Con’s help.”   
“So what are you thinking?” Mike asks, turning to Sam.  
“We’re flying in blind.” She hums, turning the watch Brainstorm and Que made her. “We cross together. Keep in tight formation. Pack me with as many batteries as you can spare and I’ll shield us until their doorway.” She looks to each sibling in turn and then to Ironhide, Drift and Optimus. “I can’t promise you’ll return, but we can end this in this final battle.”  
Optimus nods. “Then let us begin.”

They drive across the desert sands, keeping in their arrow formation with Prime leading the way. His trailer is full of assassins, more positioned on the top with Cybertronian charge cannons. His cabin is packed with energy batteries, wires tangled together to the core computer. Brainstorm had designed a new device that would link with Sam, where she could create and control a forcefield to shield the group. The power required is too great for her limited energy stores, hence the batteries.  
She is seated in the passenger seat, in a near meditative trance she had been working on with Drift. Absolute concentration will be required to maintain the field.  
The first explosion goes wide, alerting their army to the enemy sighting them. Sam raises her right hand, the energon lines beneath her skin glow crystal blue. The next explosion falls short of their convoy, but the third heads straight for Ironhide. The round impacts the forcefield and explodes harmlessly away. Their numbers give a battle cry and put their foot down, racing forward to the fight.  
The forcefield gets them to the walls of the compound, the batteries fritzing within the cabin. Optimus plots into the gate, knocking it flat and spins into a slide. Their army split up and engage their enemy, Sam jumping down from Optimus with her pistols firing into the mass of assassins.  
The Autobots and NEST soldiers focus on the Decepticons, leaving the assassins to deal with their equals.

Sam sprints up the stairs, hurling assassins down behind her. She saw him up on the roof behind this building. She knew that holoform. Knew that gun. How he was able to fight in his true form and be up on that roof was beyond her knowledge, but she had to get up there now!  
She tore through the door and sprinted over the roof, eyes searching for Megatron. He is on his belly with the specialised sniper riffle tucked under him. Aiming at Optimus who was engaged in a fierce fight with his true form.  
Her optic spots his finger squeeze the trigger and she does the only thing she can. She jumps in the way.

Optimus throws his brother away from him and steps forward, bringing his sword down in an arch. Something jumps from the roof next to him, arms and legs still in motion and he turns his optics down as it crosses his chest. His servo automatically reaches out to catch her before he fully registers that it’s Sam. But her body is turned side on to the building in front of him and then a muzzle flashes. Blood sprays out her chest as the round connects, deflected from its direction by her body, to graze his own chassis. He catches her body out the air. The battle around him becomes little more than back ground noise as he stares in horror at her figure.  
Ironhide, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker break past him, aiming both at the roof and Megatron’s true form, driving him back and cutting his holoform out.  
Optimus triggers his own holoform into his servo and crashes to his knees behind her. He grabs her shoulder and rolls her onto her back. Her head rolls towards him, dazed eyes locking onto his.  
“Yo –“ She chokes on her own blood. It sprays out her mouth with her breath, eyes widening in panic.  
“Darling! What did you do? What did you do!” He screams at her, hands hovering over the hole in the side of her chest. The blood pours out the wound, coating his servo and seeps into the knees of his trousers. He strips out of his jacket and presses it over her chest, frantically calling for Ratchet on the comms.   
She chokes on more blood so he wraps his arms behind her and lifts her top half up, cradling her in his arms.  
“There…was no…choice.” She gasps.  
Ratchet’s holoform appears across from him on her other side. He presses a hand into her ribs and pulls away covered in blood. He tips her forward and presses a dressing on her, getting a good look at the hole that he could easily fit his fist into. Moving her again he lifts Prime’s jacket up, swiping at the blood to get a look. He pulls back shaking and presses roughly down on the wound.  
“Sam! What were you thinking!” Ratchet howls. Prime grabs his shoulder and shakes him. “The bullets torn into her heart. The nanites won’t be able to heal it. Optimus…I can’t mend this.” Prime looks down upon her face and clutches her tighter.  
“It’s okay…you’re…okay.” She whispers, clumsily raising a hand up and resting it on his cheek. “I…l..love yo-“ She hisses in pain, back arching as the pain throbs and burns.   
“Wait.” Ratchet whispered. “Aharon. I can do this, just hold on.” He leans over her and tilts her ear toward him. “Stay awake Sam. Stay with us.”  
The Decepticons flee when various buildings on the base explode, when the African families numbers dwindle down to single figures.   
Optimus hurries over the base, passing Fen who cradles his wife’s corpse and rocks her with his sobs. His son is standing behind him with his sister in his arms, limp and long dead.   
Sam labours for breath, whispering in delirium to ghosts long since passed. He lowers his servo down behind Ratchet’s alt mode. The holoform picks her up in his arms murmuring apologies to her pained moan. First Aid, Wheeljack and Q, all in holoforms, follow Ratchet into the tent.  
He turns back to the base, watching the groups returning and the human medics gathering the wounded and dead.”Come on Prime.” Ironhide states, grabbing his shoulder and turning him back. “I need your help gathering the off lined ‘Cons.”   
‘Hide keeps him occupied until night falls and everyone bunks down to rest. He waits outside the tent until Ratchet transforms into his true form.  
“We’ve saved her. She’s alive.” He pats Prime’s shoulder.  
“How?” He asks in relief.   
“I used the plans for Aharon’s spark. The power of the spark is increasing her healing. I’m going to keep her sedated a few days to allow her new lung and spark to fully integrate.” Optimus is too relieved to question the miracle granted to them.

On the carrier plane back to the States, Mike approaches Ratchet’s alt mode. “I know why you did what you did. None of us want to see her dead and I can’t thank you enough for saving her. But did you think about the ethics of what you’ve done? Did you ever consider what she would think about this?”   
“I did what needed to be done.” He responds. Mike just gives him a nod and walks back to his seat.

Optimus has again fallen asleep by her bed, cheek resting against the mattress, fingers tangled with her own and resting on her abdomen.  
Ratchet vents another sigh as he pursues his data pad. He turns around in the dim lit room and drags his gaze from work. He overlooks her the first time and only spots her when she turns her head to look at him.  
“Sam, how long have you been awake?” He asks quietly. She’s half sitting up, using the pillows to elevate her shoulders and neck. Her free hand runs gently through Prime’s hair.  
“Long enough to know.” She responds, eyes drifting to Prime’s head.  
“It was the only way.” He projects his holoform down to her.   
“I’m not interested Ratchet. I’m not talking about it.” She responds tiredly.  
“Sam? I couldn’t let you-“  
“I’m not interested!” She cuts him off sharply, looking up at him.  
“He didn’t know I was going to do it. Don’t be angry with him.” He explains.  
“I know…and I get it. I would do anything to keep you guys alive. But Ratch…” she scrubs her face with her hand. “You realise what this means, don’t you? I may be able to deal with it now, maybe fifty years in the future. But I’ll resent you when I burry Mao.” Her eyes are shining when she looks up at the medic. “I know I’m probably unable to carry children, but I’d never willingly have children now. I wouldn’t be able to cope outliving them. One hundred years in the future? You’ll need to accept that I won’t handle this.”  
“I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I couldn’t bare to loose you.” She just shakes her head and sinks back into the pillow, wiping the tear that escapes her control.  
“Just leave me alone Ratchet.” She focuses on Optimus, stroking his hair gently. Lost in her own thoughts she feels the spark monitor next to her. Her mind sinks into the data and follows the trail through the structure inside. The machine suddenly sparks and turns off.   
Ratchet returns behind her, stabbing the screen with his finger in frustration.  
“Fragging pile of junk.” He growls.


	25. Becoming something new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam’s healing hits a road block and a year passes before our eyes

During her weeks recovery in the med bay and the following week on her feet, a lot of tech throughout the base begins to cut out.   
It comes to a head when Ironhide had joined Sam in the hanger. No one knows how it happened, only that ‘Hide had been assisting Sam to carry out some basic stretches. In the next moment Sam’s calling over the comm systems for help after Ironhide had gone into stasis shock.  
When help arrives she’s frantic, crying, almost hysterical. Ratchet gets to work, finding various systems blown that originate from the holoform program.  
Optimus sits Sam nearby and tries to calm her. “No! You don’t get it! I felt the holoform programming. Orion I got lost in the code…I…I did that! I did that to him.” The electricity in the room starts to hum, the lights above them blazing brighter.   
Almost like an EMP blast everything cuts out, including Optimus’ holoform. When he looks down at where Sam was sitting, she’s gone.

“She needs to get away from here. The spark is interacting with the chips in her brain. She is struggling to be around the base right now.” Optimus explains, optics fixed on the distance.  
“What do you mean interacting with her chips?” Oki asks, Mao resting on her hip.  
“I didn’t think the spark would interact with the Cybertronian parts within her.” Ratchet explains. “She is linking up with the technology on base, a side effect of the spark.”   
“Wait! So the blackout on base?” Lennox asks. Ratchet nods. “And the data bank burning out?” Another nod. “And Ironhide’s lockdown?”  
“It seems to affect us more due to our similar make up.”  
“I can sense her.” Optimus states distractedly, changing the course of the conversation.  
“How? She continues to evade my sensors.”  
“I can feel her spark. I don’t know how but I can feel her out there.” Ratchet gives Prime a hard stare.  
“I don’t normally get involved with other mech’s relationships, but you both haven’t….”  
“No Ratchet. I wouldn’t put such a bond on her.” Optimus turns back to the darkness.  
“But maybe she would.” He glances back to the medic. “Humans desire connection with others. Maybe she’s unintentionally doing so with you.” Optimus just hums.

She sits in silence, cross legged on the ledge and gazes out into the darkness. She’s far enough away that she can breath easily once more. Since the spark was installed she’s found her capability to link up with tech has advanced. She can even link up to Autobot’s, knows where they are on that base. But it all gets to be too much. Becoming easily distracted by the ability and the beauty of what she sees.  
So now she’s here in the desert, where technology is at a distance and her mind can rest.  
A ping on her sensors draws her attention to her right, three cars leaving a dust trail as they come closer to her.  
Sunstreaker leads the pack, aiming for her figure out on the ledge.  
She focuses on Sunstreaker with a hand out stretched. He stops his motion and can feel something tearing through his systems and preventing his advances. His twin and ‘Bee transform and look between the shadowed figure and the frozen car.  
Heavy, human shaped hands slam down on her shoulders, breaking her concentration.  
“Stop Sam.” Optimus rumbles from behind her, moving one hand to the top of her arm and gently lowering it. “Return to base you three.” He orders them.   
He moves so he’s standing before her, watching as she rubs her temple. “Sweet spark?” She looks up.  
“I’m sorry.” She whispers. “I can’t help it. I just…I get lost.”   
He ducks to press a kiss to her forehead.  
“Ratchet thinks the chips in your brain are evolving due to the spark in your chest. Developing further functions.”  
“I think I’m going to start resenting Ratchet sooner than my one hundred year estimate.” She states miserably.  
“I am sorry Sweet spark. I never intended this to happen.”  
“You didn’t even know they were doing this Orion. And what’s done is done. I just need to get a grasp on this.” She breaks eye contact and worries her lip. “I think I need to…get away for…just a short time.” She glances up, worry clear in her eyes.  
“Sam, if you need some time away then I understand. I don’t like being away from you, but I think you need space away for the changes to fully develop.”  
“I’m sorry.” She whimpers. He draws her into his arms.  
“Enough. You don’t need to apologise.” 

“You’re really leaving?” Epps asks from behind her.   
“Just for a few month. To get back in touch with myself. Get a handle on this.” She turns to give the dark skinned man her attention. He rests a hand on her shoulder and points towards Prime.  
“I’ll keep an eye on him.”  
“Thank you.” Each come down to see her, stopping only long enough to exchange brief words.   
Only once her satchel is strapped to her bike and she stands looking back at the base as though memorising it, does Optimus produce his holoform near her.  
“You’ll hardly notice I’m gone.” She jokes, slowly turning to him.  
“I’ll feel it every second you’re gone.” He cups her cheek and she turns into his touch.   
“I’ll miss you most of all.” She whispers. He steps in closer, committing her face to memory.  
“Stay safe.” She nods and leans up, arms winding around his neck. He captures her lips in a gentle touch. “I love you.” He breaths.  
“I’ll come back. I love you too.” They step awkwardly apart each lingering as long as they can.  
She gives him a gentle smile and turns away first, swinging a leg over the bike and settling on the saddle. A touch to her ear and the helmet materialises over her head, ending his view of her.   
She turns minutely and dips her head before the engine roars to life. She leaves only a dusty trail to mark her exit.  
He remains there long after he loses track of her spark, whispering prayers to Primus to keep her safe.

She calls every few days, making a slow track towards the Amazon, somewhere completely off grid and peaceful. They talk for about an hour each time and then she reaches Brazil, their last call before she will disappear for a week. She promises to call upon her return. Neither expect what happens next.  
“Optimus! Optimus! There’s been an attack in Brazil!” The Prime spins from his vantage point on the shooting range, watching Bumblebee and Ironhide training.  
“Give me the run down.” He orders Lennox, scooping the man up and running for the Autobot security hanger.  
Once getting a location they load up a plane and get into the air, planning their route into the small town and where the ‘Cons will have likely moved onto.  
And then Prime’s internal comms ping with an unknown signal. He cautiously answers it, not responding.  
“Orion? That you?” Sam’s out of breathed voice connects.  
“Sweet spark? What’s happened?” His worry must show on his face as everybody is turning to him. He puts the call over the sound system.  
“Look you’re-“ gun fire cuts her off, loud and all around. “Fucking stay down!” She bellows, returning fire. The whine of Cybertronian tech charging proceeds the ringing explosion that comes next. “Go! Run! That way!” The cries of women and children fade away.  
“Shit. Shit! You’re gonna be so pissed at me love, but I’ve just stumbled on one hell of a rabbits hole-“ more gun fire. “You know me. I had to take a peek. The warrens huge, like Alice in Wonderland sized.”  
“Sam! What’s happening? You’re not making sense.” Optimus forces.  
“I went undercover, just to see if this was small fry. But Orion - gods…this goes deep. This is global. I’ve got an in on this. But I gotta go dark after this fight and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Babe? Love, I’m sorry. But I’m in the right place and the right time. I’ll feed you info as and when I can, but the body count is probably all the evidence I can give you.”  
“Sam? We can deal with this together. Tell me where you are!”  
“Optimus, what I’ve found has been here for seventy plus years and none of us had a clue. And I was on the inside and I never knew. I’ve got to!” Something very close explodes again. The group listen with baited breath.  
“Look after my team – you look after the family. Don’t put them in harms way unnecessarily, use their skills. I’m counting on you…I love you. I’ll come back.” And then the line cuts out.  
They arrive to a burnt out town with a couple illegal loggers dead and the rest of the towns folk hiding in the forests.  
The ‘Cons are long gone and Sam is nowhere to be found.

The months slip by and the Decepticons keep the NEST base busy, sending them around the world chasing them down. Even with thirty Autobots, over two hundred assassins and the full NEST team, they are stretched too thin.  
But the titbits of information do start to filter in from Sam, as promised. Politicians, law enforcers and high ranking business persons killed in organised hits. And then secret service reports start crossing their desks about each of the deceased. About each of them working for Decepticons. And the information starts to make sense, about the rabbit’s warren she discovered.  
When she’s been gone six months, Prime starts to get desperate. Reckless is what the Rebel Line’s reports state. Que and Prowl run prediction calculations on ‘Con activity and Prime starts sending the assassin family out to check the locations. Several get badly injured being sent into unknown situations.  
And a year after her vanishing an ambush ends in Mike’s death. The assassin’s reactions are extreme, cussing out the Autobots and NEST soldiers. The team fractures completely when his body returns and is placed in the human med bay.

Nearly a year to the day of her farewell phone call, the secret service heads from around the world request a joint meeting to share their intel and share the names Sam had communicated to them.  
The meeting, hosted in their secure bunker room, sees over forty representatives arrive. They share the top tier targets, including within their own organisations, all dead. And then present the mid card draw list that Sam had left them to pick up and round up.   
Prime catches a brief glimpse of movement behind the American man’s shoulder, almost like hazy air disturbing a horizon and then the man’s eyes widen in shock. His head slumps down into the table, a narrow blade sticking from the base of his skull. The air shimmers again, the camouflage mode shutting down and reveals a humanoid shape standing behind the chair.  
The figure is short, wearing a hood pulled low over their eyes, a lower face mask fitted over their mouth and nose. The hood is attached to a long overcoat, appearing made from a hardened leather material. Flesh hands are raised behind the man, fingernails coloured silver.  
The table is split between surprise and expectation. Two members of the invited council of secret agencies stand abruptly, chairs skidding back. All of their patriots glance from the new comer to the two standing, once more not looking surprised at their actions. The remainder of the table are frozen, trying to work out whether to engage the new comer or step back like the secret agencies are clearly doing.  
The standing pair race for the stairs of the bunker meeting room and disappear from sight. The new comer turns back to the table, the mouth guard folding back into the neck guard, face still shrouded from clarity.  
“Somebody hasn’t paid my fare yet.” Those not in the know rock forward in shock, gazing at the female, voice more husky than last they heard.  
“Sam?” Prime whispers, trying to see beyond the shade of her hood.  
One of the Kremlin agents jabs violently at his phone before looking up at her.  
“I do love it when they run.” She comments, turning lazily to look down, over the railings as the male and female race towards the ground floor exit.   
With her back to the table she reaches towards her lower back where a silver spike hangs like a tail, metal chains wrapped about her torso above the coat. She pulls it free from a hidden fastening and begins swinging it from her right hand. Releasing it on the up swing while throwing her arm forwards, launches the weapon to the back of the female.   
The woman stumbles, giving a slack jawed look to the spike now ruptured through the front of her chest. The teeth of the spike spring open into a curved cross stretching her torso. And then she’s yanked backwards off her feet and into the air. She screeches in pain as blood sprays in all directions. Sam pulls the chain up, using the railing as a pulley anchor.   
When the woman reaches level with the railing, the assassin reaches out with one hand and grabs her throat from behind. She easily lifts the taller woman over, grasps her neck under her arm and wretches her back. The woman’s neck snaps audibly in the large room.   
Sam drops the body and the chain, turning her attention to the man pounding on the door, screaming for it to be opened. His scream suddenly chokes off and he grabs at his own throat.  
“I do hope nobody drank from his water glass. Because that would end very messily for everyone involved.” She turns her right hand palm up and waits.  
With a croak the man tips his head back and suddenly his back rips apart, tiny beads of metal shoot towards Sam, collecting above her hand before they disappear up her sleeve.  
She takes her time retracting the spike from the dead woman, folding the chain back around her own torso and cleaning the blood and gore via a towel hanging from her belt. Next she pulls the thin blade from the first man’s head and cleans that off, sliding the blade back into the wrist hold.  
She nudges the shoulder of the man, making him slide from the chair and sits herself down.  
“Now we are all on the same page. I’ve taken care of the high level rouge law enforcement, secret service, politicians and business people across the world. These fine secret service employees are now responsible for the middle and lower level persons, all working for the benefit of the Decepticons.”   
One man from MI6 stands, fastening his suit jacket, and nods to Sam. “We thank you for your services Silver Angel. I believe our business is concluded for today.” The other representatives follow his lead and exit the room via the top platform door.  
“Welcome back sister.” Alexander nods, sitting forwards.   
“Brother.” She responds. “We have some serious matters to discuss.” She announces to the rest of the room. “Does somebody mind telling me why 17 of my forces are injured? And why Mike is dead?!” The coat around her shoulders quivers as her voice rises in volume. “I left them behind for you to look after them, not send them into unknown situations and get them killed!”  
“Sam, I understand that –“ she cuts Prime off.  
“I’ve kept track of the debriefing reports! Why the hell did you send them into a known Decepticon hot spot without using reconnaissance?” She slams a hand on the table top. “You sent him out to his death!” Minuscule platting begins to flare on the coat. She breaths in deeply and exhales.  
She extracts something from the inside pocket and throws two sets of papers down before Prime and Keller. “That is our exit contract. Have your legal representatives review it and return the signed copies within forty eight hours. We leave in seventy three hours.” She pushes up to her feet and steps aside.  
“You’re leaving?” Prime rises to his feet, completely thrown by her sudden return and her announcement.  
“I’ll pay my severance fee and leave my contact details should you require our services.” She turns to Alexander and Yoseph. “Please inform the rest to begin packing up.” Both men nod and hurry from room.  
“Sam, this is an emotional response to the loss of a close friend.” Sam whirls round on the mech, brushing the hood off her head.  
“Do you know how many reports question your directions? How many near misses have been recorded!” Optimus takes in her face with shock. Her dark hair is streaked with silver. Metal scaring stands out on her left cheek and around her eye, the left iris coloured silver.  
“What – what happened?” He gasps, reaching out to touch her cheek. She grabs his wrist, stopping him. Ratchet moves from his seat between Drift and Ironhide and approaches her.  
“Too close to a shrapnel round. The wounds absorbed the metal.” She throws his arm away and twists away from Ratchet. “And I’m terminating our alliance to save my forces from being decimated by you. This is not up for negotiation.” She strides from the room, the metal plating on her coat clicking in anger.  
Outside, the four Autobots step from around the building as she exits. “Sam!” Prime shouts, authority in his voice.  
“Sam?” Mupflaps, Bumblebee and Skids break from their tussling, falling over each other to reach her first. Their tangled topple sends one of the twin’s blasters into the ground, triggering a charge lined up for the assassin.  
Her coat suddenly slits in half down her back and arches out, revealing the Katanas strapped over her back. The coat rotates about her shoulders and fans out, sinking sharpened feathers into the earth before her and covering her frame. The shot refracts harmlessly off the silver metal before the metal unfolds from her body.  
Great metal wings stretch from her back, metal feathers clinking off each other as they layer back, the shape changing with her movements. Black metal makes up the inside, silver on the back. They shape aerodynamically, layers ever shifting like flaps on a plane. Designed more for aerobatic gliding as opposed to actual flight, shifting with the glide of the wind over the open plain.  
“I knew she was Silver Angel!” Skids points. Several small shapes scurry over the tangled ‘Bots and hurry towards Sam. Brains and Wheeley impact her shins in a tight hug, Scalpel hugs her chest while the three panthers rise, resting paws on her shoulders to get some attention. She takes her time touching each mech’s helms, gentle fingers soothing their emotions.  
Once each have stepped back her wings return to her overcoat shape. Oki and Maden race into her next, colliding hard with her body and clinging tightly.  
“I knew you’d come back!” Oki murmurs, face tucked tight into the smaller woman’s throat.  
“I came as soon as I heard. I’ve followed every report off the server. I should have returned sooner…I could have…this would never –“ Oki claps a hand over her mouth.  
“No! We should have done something ourselves. We could have turned the missions down. This is as much our fault.” She removes her hand, stroking over the damage to the older woman’s face. “I’ll show you where he is.” The younger woman steps away and turns towards the human medical bay, Sam keeps a step behind her.  
Once inside the bay they find the rest of the heads already waiting for them. A single bed nearest the door is occupied, a sheet covering the body. Sam’s gaze lingers on the body for several long minutes as the rest of the heads move closer. Once she returns her attention back to them they each come forward for a hug, arms lingering on her cheek and hair as each check her over. Once each have greeted her she pulls a small device from her revealed coat pocket and places it on a nearby table. The device lights up, indicating that the conversation can not be overheard.  
“We leave in three days. I’ll pay the severance fee and we’re going independent. My work over the last year has secured us numerous contracts and contacts around the world. I’ve bought a new home base where we can work from. We just need to transport our gear out there and we’ll be ready to go.” Each of the heads nod their understanding, moving back as she approaches the bed.  
She stops near the head of the bed and hovers one hand over the sheet, fingers trembling minutely. She slowly pulls the sheet back to reveal Mike’s face, grey and relaxed. She rests a hand to his cheek and stares down on him, the cold seeping into her palm.  
“I should never have left you.” She whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, her other hand brushing through his hair. “It should not have been you, brother. My heart aches to hear you again. I am doing what I should have done six months ago.” She rests her forehead to his. “We will leave and become the family we should have always been. Reigniting the mission we should be following.” She rests her lips to his cheek, her tears falling to his face. A sob cuts through her next words. “I’m sorry…I’m – sorr….sorry brother.” And there she breaks. The heads move in closer, touching her shoulders, her arms, her head and hair. Trying to bring some comfort to her broken form.  
She stands straight slowly, brushing the tears from Mike’s face first while Darryl brushes the tears from her face. She grasps blindly for the hands touching, using them to ground herself once more. “Tonight we send him to the afterlife. And tomorrow we pack our gear.” They murmur their agreement, clinging to their sister, gone for a year.

That night the Rebel Line burn Mike’s body alone, the Autobot’s and NEST soldiers bearing witness from a distance. The assassins return to their building, gathering in the roof bar where they slowly share stories of Mike in the quiet night. Sam sits with Mao in her lap, watching the young child sleep peacefully.  
Only once the assassins have returned to their room, and Sam stretches out on one of the sofas, her coat removed and draped over her like a blanket, do the smaller Cybertronians sneak into the building. On her side, gazing at a single candle, Scalpel soothes his spindly legs over the raw connection points on her neck, marvelling at the integration of her coat/wings to her central nervous system. Brains and Wheely snuggle under her coat, hugging her abdomen. Glit and Howleback curl up on her legs and Ravage stretches over the back of the sofa. And still she lies silently.  
An oriental man takes a seat on the table before her, silently assessing her. “I wish to come with you.” Drift speaks quietly.  
She shifts to look up at his face. “I’ve told you before that I’ve never belonged with the Autobots. But I feel I belong with the family, I am much like them. We are outsiders to our own kind, but find better connection with the Rebel Line.” Sam slowly reaches a hand out to him. He grasps it and allows her to pull him closer, crawling to his knees to reach her.  
“Ok.” She responds, thumb rubbing the back of his hand. He leans over to press a kiss to her cheek.  
“Thank you.”   
He remains kneeling until she eventually drifts off to sleep and watches over the little group until the sun rises.


	26. The split of allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Family break away

The activity the next morning makes the exit of the assassin’s suddenly very real. The family organise quickly, driving the shipping containers to their hanger and packaging their gear onto pallets. They filled each container with their chop shop gear first and then stored their array of cars in the next containers. By the time lunchtime came around, the hanger was bare and sterile.   
They next moved to their section of the armoury, boxing the wide array of weapons and carrying them outside. Again, their side of the armoury looked barren once completed.  
As darkness closed in, they next turn to the tech stored in Que’s lab and their medical equipment in the med stores.  
They finally return to the roof bar, having cooked a barbecue to use up their food supply and clear some of the alcohol out. By the end of the night they had stacked up the furniture and boxed up the remaining alcohol to be placed in the containers at first light.  
Oki convinced Sam to use Mike’s empty room, the smaller ‘Bots following her in and settling themselves in.   
The morning after sees the last of the packing, emptying out bedrooms and collecting possessions together. While Sam sends one of the containers off, Ratchet and Ironhide finally approach her. She turns wearily to greet them, both holoforms appearing before her.  
Ratchet pulls her into a tight hug, resting a cheek on her hair as she leans into his chest.  
“You don’t have to go Sam. You really don’t.” He implores her, letting her pull back from the hug.  
“For them I do. We should have rebuilt a year ago. I should have brought them in on what I discovered. We should have started the family back on the right path.” She presses a hand to the mechs chest, pausing to gather her words. “Leaving them here under Prime’s command was foolish. We aren’t soldiers. Yes, we have a common enemy, but we have more to give to the world. And less of a fight against the ‘Cons.” She reaches out for Ironhide, pulling him into a side hug while maintaining contact with Ratchet.  
“This isn’t goodbye. Our work will take us world wide and we can still meet up if we’re in the same location. And once we are secure in our new home, you will always be welcome.”  
“We should have done more.” Ironhide rumbles. “You left them in our care. We should not have breached that trust.”  
“It is done ‘Hide. And we must leave.” She steps back from the pair. “I’m still in pain over all that has happened. And it is over between Prime and I, but given time, maybe we can rebuild some trust again between allies.” She steps out of reach. “Danny will be landing a fleet shortly, you should keep the runway clear.” Then turns and walks away.  
Both sets of twins and ‘Bee approach her next as she moves towards the airstrip. Falling into step around her. She pauses to look at each in turn. “Can we visit?” ‘Bee asks hopefully. Sam steps closer to cup his cheek.  
“Always my brother. Just because we are leaving, does not mean I don’t still care for you all. We just have different aims now. Two separate teams.” The five close ranks around her, each standing a head taller than her as they lock her in the middle of a group hug. She takes the comfort that is offered and presses her hand to each young mech.  
The sound of carrier planes parts the group, Sam’s face splitting into a grin. Each jet lands one after the other, turning at the end of the runway and shutting down next to each other, five in all.  
Sam tangles her hands with ‘Bee and Sunny, pulling them both after her. “Come on.” She prompts them.  
By the time they reach the planes, the flight crew are exiting and greeting Sam jovially. The remaining heads quickly join them, sharing hugs and hand shakes. Danny scoops Moa into his arms and spins the small toddler around in the air.  
“So she finally recruited you?” Alexander asks, watching his child like a hawk.  
“Well, she did put together a kick ass air team, just for me! Who was I to say no to that? And you guys should see the base-“ Sam presses a hand over his mouth and gives him a warning look, eyes flickering to the holoforms at the edge of the group.   
The approach of artic-lorries breaks the gathering so the flight crew can organise the containers safely onto the planes and secure them without overloading the planes. Once finished the assassins lead their newest team mates back to the building and Sam splits off to join the younger ‘Bots on the roof of the main building. Ratchet and Ironhide already waiting on them.  
For a few hours she just sits and stargazes with them, talking quietly about anything except the elephant in the room.  
Optimus hovers by the roof door, both longing to see her and fearful of her reaction. “I don’t want to fight.” She raises her voice, knowing that he’ll realise she talking to him. The other ‘Bots turn to look at Prime and then look to her with her back to him, head tilted back to see the sky. “Things will never be how they were before, but I won’t be angry forever.” She glances over her shoulder. “And I don’t want to make enemies with you.”   
Optimus approaches slowly and sits on the ground next to her, leaning back to see the stars. He pulls the rolled up documents from his jacket pocket and holds them out to her. She stares for a long moment, taking in his face carefully. Eventually she takes the offered severance contract with a small “Thank you.”  
“It won’t be the same without you femmes around.” Elita comments.  
“You’re always welcome to visit. And should you require female specialists, I’m sure we can join forces.” Sam responds, waving a hand in acceptance.  
“I think being part of the Dark Side would be great. I heard the three NEST fems were leaving with you.” Chromia throws in.  
“And that some of our numbers were joining?” Arcee adds, curious to get the gossip.  
“Just the smaller ones. I think they feel…a little more useful with us.” She tries to sound diplomatic.  
“And Drift?” Ratchet probes.   
“He perhaps has more in common with our ranks.” She avoids looking at Prime.  
“I think he will be happier with you.” Prime points out, no accusations audible. Sam gives him a surprised look. “He has few friends here and more friends with your numbers. I have consented to him leaving the Autobots.” She gives him a grateful nod.   
The group converse casually for a while longer, but eventually Sam stands up and dusts herself off. “I’m gonna…turn in for the night.” She states, awkwardly.   
The femmes close on her first, sharing a group hug. The younger mechs break in for their own hugs. When she steps back she is enclosed in Ratchet’s arms for a long moment and then into Ironhide’s for an even longer one. And then her and Optimus are left standing awkwardly opposite each other. After a stumbled half reach of a hug and a hand shake, they end up holding hands in the middle and exchange a soft smile.  
“For what it’s worth…I’m glad you saved me. I don’t regret that.” He squeezes her hand gently, trying to convey everything he’s unable to voice. Sam drags his hand to her side and she passes his hand into Elita’s hold, patting their joined hands.  
She walks slowly to the edge of the roof and gazes out at the view. Then slowly turns back to face the group. “It’s been an honour Autobots.” She gives them a salute and then her coat splits in half and spreads wide as she falls backwards. The younger mechs rush forward to watch as she glides over the space between the Autobot hanger and the assassins quarters, chattering excitedly at the new equipment and skill.

Sun rise sees Sam and the flight crew striding out to check each plane on the runway and ensure the cargo is secure for the flight. She wanders around with the pilots, dressed in a black T-shirt and dungarees, the coat absent for the first time.   
She wanders back to the assassin’s building to start gathering the family and collect her bags, chasing some of the lazier members from the rooms.   
She steps out into the warming air with a duffel bag in one hand and her coat slung over one shoulder, taking in the line of the smaller ‘Bots waiting for her. Ravage springs forward to tug the bag from her hand and races off to the planes, leaving her behind shaking her head. The others run after him.  
Drift and Ratchet walk from their hanger, aimed towards her. She pulls her coat from her shoulder and pulls her arms through the sleeves. Ratchet locks onto the tentacles that extend and reach for the skin, top and bottom of her spine. Once locked in she pulls the coat over her shoulders and fixes the collar.  
“I wish I had more time to study that.” The medic tells her, bending down for a closer look. “How did you come by this?” He asks.  
Sam gives a sad smile, glancing away. “Lazerbeak…He was one of mine. We crossed paths in the UK and I couldn’t save him. He asked that I make some use of him.” She pulls the hood up as the face mask forms. The collar of the coat expanding into a neck guard. The front expands to cover her torso as the lower edges split and fold over her legs. It creates a moveable, living metal covering that fully protects her.   
Ratchet extends a large finger and pushes the hood back, experiencing brief resistance before it flops back. “Was this before that?” He touches her cheek gently.   
“A few weeks before.” She confesses.  
He next touches her hair, tracing the silver streaks tenderly. “And this?” The battle armour folds away and she looks up at him for a quiet moment.  
“The first strands happened here. I just never told you about them.” The medic ex-vents roughly. “It’s done Ratch…it’s done.” He shakes his head and strokes down her back. She catches his finger from her side and pulls it round to pat them kindly. “Let me kick start the family as they should have been. Let me build my empire.” She winks. “We’ll come back to you then.” She nods to Drift.  
“How long?” He dreads the response.  
“One generation. Maybe two.” She lays it out before him, properly for the first time. “But I still expect you to keep in touch.”   
He looks from her to Drift and back again. “I expect you both to look after each other.” They both nod solemnly.   
Ratchet dims his optics and stands, carefully extracting his finger from her grasp. No more words are said.


	27. Time marches on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As fifty long years pass we see the Family, formerly the Rebel Line grow and expand. But the world begins to grow more distant towards the Autobots.

Drift keeps semi regular updates (mostly only occurring when Ratchet sends multiple messages until he responds) about the families progress. Most of the missions are already known after the fact and easy to work out that it is one of the family. In their first year they mostly stick to human issues, routing out terrorist cells and black ops for governments.   
In their second, they end up rescuing a NEST team in Kuwait when they were running a separate mission. Some of the team were badly injured and without a working rescue plane, so Sam brought them to her base to treat them. That was the first time NEST were sent the family’s coordinates, landing to retrieve their team from medical. Ratchet caught a lift to visit and ensure the NEST soldiers were able for such a long flight.  
He’s happily surprised with the size of the base, set deep in the wilderness of Northumberland in England. A large runway deposits him on the outskirts of the base, barracks and housing complexes stretch out like a large village. Making his way to the single storey hospital he quickly discovers how self supporting they are. Fields in the distance supply enough food and a nearby chop shop and power plant sustains their energy and transport. A community centre is the focal point of the design, clearly somewhere to maintain their social connection and host celebrations.  
He also realises that their numbers have swelled beyond the two hundred they originally had when they left.  
Drift meets him outside the hospital to direct him to the ward set aside for the soldiers.  
The medic is glad to see his friend again. He even considers staying a little while longer to give the men rest before the journey back to the States. And if the mechs end up sharing some high grade, all the more better.   
His third night there finds Drift and Sam in the training grounds, Katanas flashing in the waning moonlight. It’s his first glimpse into their shared life, watching Drift knock her blade from her hand and tackle her onto her back. Her legs wind around his hips, but she doesn’t flip him off her. His hands press her wrists into the earth and he looms over her, both of them panting with eyes locked. He leans down and catches her in an intense kiss, her body arching up into his. His lips move over her jaw and down her neck and then settle on a shallow cut to her clavicle. He seals his lips over the wound and she throws her head back with a hiss.  
Ratchet suddenly feels like a voyeur and quietly retreats from them. When he gets back to the ‘Bot hanger Ravage gives him a sharp grin. “You’re not the only one to stumble across them together. It started out as a slow burn between them. And now? That fire just ramps up higher.” Ratchet raises an optic ridge. “They’re actually good for each other.”  
Ratchet isn’t sure he agrees, knowing his friends more violent nature and Sam’s darker urges. But watching them the next morning, gentle touches and innocent caresses, he has to wonder if they might actually balance each other out.

The team of femmes wait at the edge of the Cape Town military runway, each holoform leaning back against their alt modes. The small passenger jet winds down and the built in steps turn down as the door opens.   
Sam steps down first, followed by the former NEST women and the family women. Thirty in all track across to the femmes, rushing forward for hugs and shoulder pats.  
“So I’m assuming this isn’t a femmes reunions.” Sam prods, looking to Elita for an explanation.  
“We were hunting Soundwave and came across a mini-Con issue. We figured you ladies were well equipped to help out.” A smile curls Sam’s lips as she contemplates.  
“Count us in.”  
The mission was short, neatly organised and meticulous planned. So if the ladies stayed an extra few days, that was omitted from the joint report. Either way, it was nice without the men and mechs around.

The politician had retired long ago, but still kept connections with NEST and the family. So when he passes away peacefully in his sleep, it’s a given that everyone would attend the funeral.   
The holoforms and NEST soldiers arrive first, there to support the family in their time of need. And then a line of expensive cars pull up in the cemetery, the family alighting into the damp weather to pay their respects. And their numbers are great, greatly increasing the hundreds already there.   
Sam greets Keller’s family, representing her fraction and passing their condolences.  
It’s a shame such an occasion becomes their first full reunion, but they are obviously there to commemorate a key figure head from their history of several years ago.

The Decepticons forces are shrinking, they are running scared. At this moment the seekers are the most dangerous entities to an Autobot, capable of flight more daring than technology. Two of the ‘Cons fliers had been spotted flying routes over Bangladesh. Hence why Sam was now in their only high level plane tracking the pair in the highest atmosphere.  
She settles back in her glass box and stares out into the vast blue expanse around her. We are in position Silver Angel. Optimus reports.  
Awaiting your release, love. Drift adds.  
Sam takes a deep breath and holds it, metal plating extends over her arms and legs, sealing tight across her chest and neck. The mask over her mouth shifts to fix the neck guard in place. She flicks her hood over her goggles. “Bombs away.” She presses the release button and the glass beneath her seat splits apart, dropping her out of the sky.  
She pushes the seat away and turns onto her stomach, the adrenaline rushing through her veins. “Targets acquired” she reports.  
The coat splits apart and her wings fix, plates shifting with the air as she angles herself towards the first jet. Her nails extend out into sharpened, metal claws. She latches onto one wing and tears a chunk out, sending the jet into a tilting spin. Pushing away she folds one of her wings and lines up on Thundercracker’s back. Shooting forwards she punches through the canopy and pulls the emergency shoot. The jet is yanked back and tumbles uncontrollably, right into the path of the helicopter.   
Drift transforms midair and latches onto the jet, pulling him closer to the ground. Sam winds her wings around her and spins back towards Skywarp. She makes sure that the other jet is also heading towards the earth. He transforms metres from impact and starts firing into the line of Autobots charging towards him. Sam flares her wings wide and extends her legs, landing onto the ‘Con’s shoulder. Her Katana is pulled free and slashes out at his throat, he pulls far enough from her swing so she only nicks his main energon line.  
He drops his shoulder and shakes, knocking her off the edge and and head first to the ground. She rights herself and lands in a crouch and then rushes away from the gun fire raining down on her. She stays back from the titan’s fight, circling should they need her.  
Both Decepticons are dispatched swiftly, dealing a decisive blow to their enemy.  
“Still in one piece my love?” Sam asks from the sidelines, knocking the hood back and pushing the flight goggles up. Drift dusts himself off and throws her a lazy grin. His holoform appears behind her and playfully wraps his arms around her, pinning her arms. She lurches forward with a grin and listens to his whispered words.  
She turns in his arms and snakes her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. Optimus turns away with a light smile and goes to help with the clean up. 

Life slips by. Fifteen years have passed in the blink of an eye, mission following mission. Ratchet had spent the last few months at the family headquarters, enjoying the change of scenery. He was there when the Decepticons sprung a final surprise attack before fleeing the planet, bombing the base. The living quarters were hit first and sustained the greatest damage before the higher powered weapons saw to the attack.  
Ratchet had been down in the ‘Bot’s hanger when it started and had rushed to help in the rescue. The scream of a teenage Moa drew him to the frightened child, clutched in her father’s hold facing over his shoulder, head kept there by his large hand to keep her from the view before the man.  
Oki is spread out on her back, head tilted back and eyes wide, locked to her family. Her dark hair spread about her like a halo amongst all the red.   
Sam is at her chest, compressions hammering down on the woman’s torso. Every press brings a geyser of more red, both from the younger woman’s mouth and the holes peppering her body. Sam dips down, pinching Oki’s nose and breaths for her. More blood spurts up, covering Sam’s face and front.  
The older woman sobs, barely keeping it together. There’s no coming back from this, but still she tries.  
Drift barges through the gathered crowd and grabs Sam from behind, fighting her to stop. She screams and wails to continue before going limp. Drift eventually releases her and she folds over the body, great choking sobs muffled into the corpse.  
The crowd break from the scene as it is repeated again and again around them. Ratchet gets to work tending to the survivors.  
Hours later he reports the death toll to Prime, adding Oki’s death at the end. The Prime responds that their team wish to pay their respects and are on route.  
Ratchet finds Sam at dawn, watching the sun rise from behind her knees, arms wrapped around her legs and hugging them tight. She’s still covered in blood, dry and flaking. Her eyes are distant, lost in sorrow and pain.   
The medic sits in the rubble next to her and watches the new day rise with her. They say nothing. There are no words to convey such devastation. Only silence can be observed at such times. So he sits to wait it out with her.

The call cuts across their frequency, urgent and frantic. “Satellites state you are near Alaska. Ironhide? Ratchet? Do you guys copy?” Drift’s voice betrays his rising hysteria.  
“Kid? Slow down. What’s going on?” Ratchet responds, sharing a confused look with Elita.  
“Ratchet! Are you in Alaska?!”  
“Yes. What’s happened?”   
“We lost signals with Silver Angel and Tie. They’re about a half hour from your location. They crossed paths with Decepticons. We think they were looking for you but found her.” Drift hurries impatiently.  
“Sam and who?” Ironhide cuts in.  
“Mao. Oki’s and Alexander’s daughter. They were tracking people working for ‘Cons when an attack hit them. Neither are answering me. Please! Please, I’m on the other side of the world. You’re the only ones.”  
“Ok kid. Ok. Give me a location and we’ll find them.”   
The second the coordinates come in, the three Autobots tear out in that direction. They each hope to make it in time.

Sam wakes feeling muggy and confused, she slits her eyes and turns her head slightly. The room is familiar for all the wrong reasons, casting her back nearly thirty years. A very familiar holoform is working on a table near her bed. The head lifts to look at her when her hair scrapes audibly on the starched sheets.  
“Sam.” Ratchet breaths, standing quickly and coming to the bed. “How do you feel? You were in really bad shape.” He brushes a palm over her forehead lovingly, bowing slightly to look into her face.  
“How…bad?” She croaks, wincing at the pull of skin around her throat. He flutters his fingers over her shoulder and throat, both heavily bandaged.  
“You offlined twice. Nearly bled out by the time we found you. Your wings kept your spinal cord in tact. But it’s going to take you a long time to be fighting fit again. The nerve damage alone will put you out of action for a year.” She nods slowly. “I wasn’t aware that your skin was integrating metallic elements to harden it.” She shifts her eyes away guiltily. “What were you thinking throwing your neck guard and face mask away? You have deep scaring to your optic ridge and other cheek.”  
“For Moa…to protect –“ she’s unable to complete the sentence, pain flaring like fire around the front.  
“Oh kid…” she fully meets Ratchet’s eyes, trying to work out the veiled pity in his face. He grasps one of her hands tightly and runs his second over her cheek again. “Moa…she didn’t…she didn’t make it Sam.”  
Sam just blinks at him for several seconds, her mind blank. “No…no I gave her the guards. She should…she should have made it. I…You’re wrong.” She tries to push herself up, her shoulder and throat burn in pain. Ratchet grasps her side and her good shoulder, trying to keep her down.   
“Sam, Sweetspark. The shrapnel penetrated her chest. We found her…she wrapped her arms around your throat to…to save you. She was gone by the time we found you…I’m sorry little one.”   
A whine rises in her throat and her face crumples. The whine becomes a pained cry, a wail of pain as she turns on her side and presses her face into the pillow.   
Ratchet snatches her hands up as she claws in anguish at her bandages. He can’t voice anything to sooth her, his own spark breaking in the face of her distress.  
Somebody appears behind him and sits on the edge of the bed, nudging the pillow aside to sit down. Lean arms wind under her shoulders and bodily lift her up, turning her into a solid chest. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and smothers her scream into the chest.  
Drift nods to Ratchet, signalling the mech to move away as he lightly rubs her back. “Little spark, I know it’s not fair. I know the guilt you will carry for this. But she is gone now and you must live each day for her.” He keeps whispering comfort to her, trying to ease her into rest.  
Long after she is asleep and resting back on the pillow, Drift turns back to Ratchet. “She threw her own amour to her Goddaughter to try and save her. And it wasn’t enough.” The medic states, voice laced with sorrow.   
“It’s times like this that I have doubts in Primus.” Her strokes her hair while Ratchet gawks at the Swordsmech. He gives the medic a wistful smile. “How is any of this fair?”   
Ratchet doesn’t have a response for that one.

It’s quiet from the family for a long stretch of time, months bleed into years. And then Ironhide has cause to contact the Drift to inform him of the death of retired General William Lennox.  
Sam and Drift arrive within a few days of the message, the ageing former heads of the family in toe.  
They mingle with the current NEST teams, exchanging heart felt condolences. Sam heads straight to Ironhide and slips into his side with an arm draped around his back. She leans in close to share quiet words with the holoform, ensuring the words are kept between them.  
The mech nods his bowed head and leans into her touch, his own arms wrapping around her shoulders. She presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, standing on tip toes and then rests her forehead against his.  
For the entire funeral procession in the Kansas town she remains glued to the mechs side, offering support in any way she can.  
And after the funeral, invited to the NEST headquarters, the two sit out on the shooting gallery cliff side and share high grade energon. They talk for a long time, pressed side by side until the sun rises and the new dawn brings new strength.

“I stand before you today, in celebration of the retreat of the Decepticons from our world. And now the Family promise you this. We will work with the UN to maintain the peace of this world.  
For the peace of this world, missions sanctioned and authorised by this council, will be carried out. We will lay our lives down to maintain this sanctity.” Sam stands at the podium, applauded by the gathering of the UN.   
Optimus stands in one of the higher levels and smiles at her, dressed in a sharp suit and glowing under the welcome received. Times are turning more dark for his own people, but it gives him hope to see her family welcomed thus. More countries are becoming alienated from the Autobots, bitter at the lack of shared technologies.  
Later, at the after ball he watches her regal arrival in a flowing, floor length gown. Where previously she had kept to the edges of the ball, now she is sought after. Her dark red gown complements her metal shined hair, giving her a wise appearance balanced between age and youth. She hasn’t aged a day in his eyes. Her scars long faded under copper tinted skin, metal hard but still soft to the touch.   
Her arm is linked with Drift’s, dressed in a fitted suit and matching red shirt. When not linked by their arms, the mech’s hand hovers at her lower back. She includes the mech in all conversation, the pair expertly working the crowd and easily wrapping these politicians around their little fingers.  
Eventually, Drift sweeps her onto the dance floor, guiding her effortlessly and always moving in tandem.  
“You don’t regret it, do you?” Bumblebee asks from Prime’s side. He watches them for a long time before answering.  
“No.” He smiles, genuine and happy. “They’re perfect together.”   
‘Bee pats his arm and provides an answering smile, before he slips onto the dance floor and cuts in. Her light laugh bubbles up in surprise at the young mech’s appearance, pulling him into a tight hug. Drift pats the younger mech’s arm in greeting and hands the dance over to him.  
Drift settles by Prime’s shoulder. “You look happy Drift.”  
“I am Sensei. More than I thought possible.” The mech’s smile is soft as his eyes focus on her.  
“Good. Stay close to her, it will become more difficult for our kind soon.” Optimus’ eyes shift to the dark spectre watching the mechs throughout the room.


	28. The end is also a beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifty more years bring Sam to the point she warned Ratchet over, all those long years ago.

Ratchet runs ahead, Optimus and Ironhide laying down covering fire as they head towards the Grand Canyons. A heated round slams into his shoulder, shot from in front of him. The blast spins him slightly and knocks him onto his side. Ratchet looks up at the approaching vehicle, the Cybertronian canon fitted over the roof, the handler secure in the pickup trunk space..  
“We are allies!” Ratchet tries to reason.  
And then the truck explodes, flipping 180 into the air and coming to rest on its roof. For a moment Ratchet can only stare at the destruction. The blast came from above and was against Prime’s orders to not harm humans.  
Something small lands on the dirt before Ratchet, great silver and black wings expanding in threat above her head. The female throws back the hood and the face mask retracts, dark and silver hair in a plait on her skull.  
“You’d do well to retreat now.” She shouts, skin glowing cerulean with charge.  
Optimus and Ironhide appear behind the fallen mech, back to back and watching the Cemetery Wind team close in around them.  
“This is no concern of the family.” The leader barks from their right, alighting from his own pick up truck. “You’re allowed to keep your pets, but not this lot.”  
“Shame, because this lot are under my protection.” Sam snarks back.  
“You’ll just make enemies of us and of the UN!” The man snaps, mouth turned into a snarl.   
Sam gives him a sharp, predators smile. “And who’s going to tell them it was us?”   
The open ground around them seems to writhe with movement and then a hail storm of bullets rain down upon the hunting party. Within seconds, every man is dead. Sam casually strolls up to the corpse of the leader, nudging him to flop onto his back. “I have no qualms harming humans. Especially for family.”   
She slowly turns back to the three mechs, watching her team melt back into their surrounding from her peripheral. “We offer you sanctuary, should you require it?” She offers.  
“It will be us bringing war to your doorstep.” Optimus responds, helping Ratchet back to his feet.  
“Our headquarters can shield your energon readings, they’ll never know.” She responds evenly. Optimus slowly nods his consent. “Good. Extraction site is seven miles that way. Keep up.” 

Driving down the ramp of the carrier jet, the three Autobots take in the winter scene. High snow banks line the runway, a path dug through to the multitude of buildings in the base.   
Sam waves the three to follow, leading them towards one of the empty hangers. “You can house here until the snow clears. Then we can set you up a more permanent base, for as long as you desire.” The building is vacant, high ceilinged and heated floors. It obviously once stored equipment temporarily until it was disseminated.  
“Mama! Mama’s back!” A childish cry rings up from the side of the building. The pitter-patter of many little feet proceeds the herd of children racing towards the four.  
Sam squats down with her arms wide as two young children launch into her. She hugs them tight and stands, elbows keeping both children up at her front, hands extending to pat the heads of the older children. They babble happily to Sam, throwing themselves forward in turn for hugs.   
She turns to the three Autobots as they transform. “Everyone, this is Optimus Prime, Ironhide and Ratchet.” The children stare up in awe.  
“They’re bigger than Papa Drift!” The girl in her arms whispers. Sam smothers a laugh, hiking both children up higher.  
“These are the families children. We school them on base. This is Oki and Alex.” She indicates the twins in her arms.  
Optimus knees down and bows closer. “It is a pleasure to meet you both. I knew your great grandparents and grandmother.” They stare wide eyed and jump into Prime’s extended servo.  
“Mama Sam tells us so many stories of our grandparents!” The boy, Alex exclaims.   
The group walk back out and towards a nearby school house, being greeted by a group of teachers who round them back up.  
“We like to keep them close. Start training them around ten years old. So even if they design to leave the family, they can still protect themselves.” She gives them a faint smile. She pulls an off white set of rosary beads from her pocket, wrapping it around her right hand.  
“I didn’t know Mao had children.” Ratchet comments quietly.   
“They were just toddlers when it happened. Mark was a good father, but he was very distant when it happened. Drift and I ended up raising them. Mia – Mao’s youngest, is their mother. Mark junior…he’s…no longer with us.” The pain in her eyes stops them enquiring further. Her fist tightens on the rosary.  
“I like to keep close ties to the children, so they can come to me for anything. No matter their age. I’ve raised so many generations now.” She eyes Ratchet’s shoulder wound. “Come on Hatchet. I’ve got someone you’ll want to see.” She leads them to the next set of hangers down from the school, waving the mechs through the door before her.  
“Is that you Ratchet?” A bulky mech at the back of the structure turns to face them.  
“Ambulon? How…? When did you…?” The mech steps forward to pat the CMO’s shoulder.  
“Came down in Scotland. Drift picked me up.” He directs his former ship mate to a nearby berth. “I was preparing for everyone’s arrival. Didn’t even realise you were still alive!” The sound of an approaching jet breaks up the reunion, turning everyone back to the runway.  
“That’s Egypt landing. I’ll send them this way.” Sam excuses herself, leaving the mechs to get reacquainted.  
Egypt brought the femmes unit and several hours later added the Wreckers from Russia. South America was the last plane, depositing the younger set of mechs with Drift accompanying.   
That night Ratchet and Ironhide camp out with Drift, Ambulon and the smaller mechs, while Optimus directs the rest of his team to make the vacant hanger habitual for the remainder. 

Late in the night finds Optimus leaning against the wall of the hanger, helm turned up into the night sky to watch the stars. Sam stands on the edge, star gazing next to him.  
“Our roles have reversed now. I once gave you shelter and a home.” He turns to face her. “And now you have given us safe haven.”  
“You gave me a chance, over 100 years ago. Drift has kept me working on this. So many times I’ve nearly left, in too much pain from watching them pass on. I think my time is coming to an end here soon.” She rests a gentle hand to his shoulder. “I might stay for one more generation, but it won’t be long now.” Optimus nods to her.  
“Then what will you do?”   
“Drift’s trying to talk me into taking to the stars. I’ve not been human for a very long time. I think I’m ready to head out for good. See what new adventures there are.”  
“I’m glad Drift stayed with you. You are right for each other.” He nods over to the open hanger door where Ratchet and Drift are sharing a drink and snarking at each other.   
“You’re still family to me. You still hold a place in my heart.” She confesses.  
“Maybe had things not happened the way they did we could have still worked. But I’m still glad to have you as my friend.” He looks down on her, taking in the new streaks of silver metal hair. It will soon be all silver, but he still sees her as she once was in Mission city.  
“Yes, still friends after all these years.” She jokes, nudging his shoulder. “I don’t regret getting into ‘Bee back at the start.”   
They share a smile and turn back to watch the stars.

“She seems off.” Drift turns to face Optimus, facing away from the dirt circle where the adults train under Sam’s instructions.  
“How do you mean?” Drift uncrosses his arms, casting a quick glance to Sam.  
“I’m not sure how to describe it…she appears…not quite there.” Optimus attempts to put his observations into words.  
“Mark…he…what happened to him…it changed her. I nearly lost her to madness.” He drops his eyes to the ground. “The sick bastard…we were on a mission and returned to our rooms. He was torn to pieces in our bedroom. I’ve seen her in pain, but nothing like this. She shattered.”  
“I’m sorry Drift. In light of that, I can understand why she appears different.” Prime rests a hand to the other’s shoulder, ducking to look him in the face. “I’m sorry for your loss. You raised the man?”   
“Boy.” Drift corrects. “He was fifteen when it happened. She only came back to herself after she got revenge on the killer.” Optimus turns to watch the woman with a new view point. “But she’s not been quite right. A bit more vicious…a little quicker to doubt intentions. After she finished his killer she kept Mia very close to her.”   
“Sam said you both raised them?” He watches her take one of the youths through a move, slowly and step by step. Ensuring they learn the movement fluidly.  
“When Mao died their father couldn’t manage. He asked Sam and I to adopt them.” A soft smile crosses Drift’s face. “We raised them as ours. We were mum and dad to them both. Mia still calls us that.” Optimus shares his smile.  
“You both raised a lovely woman. And I’m sure Mark was a gentleman.” This time they both turn to the woman behind Sam, also taking the youths through the motion of breaking out of holds.

Fifty further years pass by, with the Autobots now living with the Family. They are safe and protected. At peace without the Decepticons on Earth. They leave the protection of Earth over to the Family once more.  
Sam only mentions it once to Ratchet, one hundred years since he made her more cybertron than human. “I feel stretched too thin now. Too cold and too pained to keep up now. I’m tired of watching them all die.”  
Ratchet says nothing. There is nothing he can offer that can make it easier for her to endure.

They gather around the console listening to the radio transmission, Sam balanced on Drift’s shoulder with one hand resting on his finial.  
“This is the Lost Light responding to Autobot frequency report. This is the Captain of the Lost Light, Rodmius. Do you copy?”  
Drift gives a chuffed snort and reaches for the transmission button. “Hey Roddy, good of you to join us.” There’s a long, silent pause.  
“Drift?! Is that you?” The group chuckle at the excited babbling.  
“Yeah ameca, still alive and kicking.”   
“What…you…how many we picking up?” He stumbles.  
“Thirty if you’ve got the space?” He responds. “And Prime if you can swing it.” He adds.  
“Shuttles will be down in 48 hours.” Sam waves a hand for the human sized mic.  
“Captain? Shield the shuttles and send them to the following coordinates. Things with the natives are a bit tense right now.” She pings him the codes to her runway.  
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Rodmius asks.  
The group burst out laughing again and Drift leans forward again. “Play nice with my Conjux Endura Roddy.”  
The mech on the other end sputters on a loop for a long minute. “Ah pits, I’m coming down for this reunion.”

Three shuttles in all land on the runway and a medium sized speedster frame strolls down from the lead ship, golden yellow and red coloured. Drift strides out first, sharing an enthusiastic hug with Rodimus. The others follow, exchanging hand shakes and curt nods.  
“You’ll be pleased to hear Prime, that the war is over. Everyone is returning to Cybertron, neutrals, Autobots and surrendered ‘Cons. We’ve been travelling around trying to find the Knights to bring Cybertron back to glory. Also rescuing those still in space.” Rodimus puffs his chest out proudly.  
“It’s over?” ‘Bee whispers in awe. The rest of them grin excitedly, bumping shoulders and patting backs. Prime’s shoulders relax and he places a hand on Rodimus shoulder.  
“That is good news Rodimus. I think we shall join you on your quest.” He rumbles happily, he’ll get all the details in a debriefing later. Right now they focus on leaving Earth.  
“This everyone?” The Captain asks.  
“We have some smaller members on the hanger here.” Optimus points out.   
“Ew, and an organic. Lovely.” Rodimus pulls a face, stepping out to meet them. Drift snags his wrist and spins him round, getting into his face.  
“Have care for what you say.” He warns, finials pointed back in a threat.  
“Hey, ok…ok pal. I didn’t realise you respected them.” It’s not quite an apology.  
“She is my Endura.” Drift releases his grip and stomps past the stunned mech.  
“What?! You do realise they live for like seventy, maybe eighty years, right?” He rushes after the white and black mech.  
“She’s a hybrid with a spark. By my calculations she’ll live to over one million years. Possibly older. She’s already over one hundred years old now.” Ratchet explains quietly.  
“Drift! Seriously? You’ve fallen for one of these?” Rodimus shouts.   
Drift tilts his helm to look down on Sam while she speaks for herself. “I would like to point out, Hot Rod,” The mech in question flinches. “That you are currently in my home. I have killed mechs for less offence than you are presently causing me.” He eyes the female up. Short, even by human standards, slim and copper skinned. Her hair is a dull metallic silver and plaited down her back. She’s wearing military boots, black cargo pants and a faded green T-shirt. A long leather coat, unfastened over the top.  
“Look, I’ll take them off your hands – ah seriously? You’re bringing those tiny mechs too?” He’s distracted by the three panthers and the three, even smaller mechs.   
Sam pulls a small blade from her pocket and flings it at the Captain’s helm. It lodges in his cheek fin and he flinches from the sting, gaze cutting back to the woman. The gem on the end of the blade starts blinking. She raises a hand and snaps her fingers.   
His joints lock and he’s suddenly aware of coding slipping past his firewall, shutting off all non-vital support systems. He topples over backwards.   
A shadow falls over him and his optics focus on the tiny glider that lands on his chest. She stands proud, great metal wings poised above her shoulders, fanned wide to give her the appearance of greater mass.  
“I’ve been referred to as a technopath. My spark evolved preexisting chips in my brain, means I can get into any system if given a doorway.” She meanders closer, grasping the handle of the blade in his cheek. “It is possible for me to kill Cybertronians this way if I desire it. But the sadist in me likes to make it messy and painful – for my target that is.” She pulls the blade free and drags it over his main fuel lines in his throat.  
“My designation is Silver Angel. My friends call me Sam, or Samantha. I’m an assassin and I’m contemplating if we really need a Captain. I mean, accidents do happen.” Rodimus whimpers, trying to fight the lock down and lean away from the blade.  
“But I’m going to be kind and assume we can start fresh.” The virus releases him and he jolts, smacking the back of his helm off the ground.  
“I’m Sam, your best friends significant other.” She extends an open hand out to him, the knife nowhere to be seen.  
“Rodimus Prime.” He whispers, extending a finger to shake her hand.  
“Pleasure.” She purrs, releasing his finger and stepping into Drift’s servo. The sword mech places her on his shoulder before pulling Rodimus to his peds.  
“That was her shovel talk by the way. It’s sent many a suitor running from courting any of her girls. Consider that you’re only warning, pal.” He pats his shoulder and steps off to the side, leaving Rodimus to shake the chill from his vents.

The Autobots load up the three shuttles parked on the end of the runway, already having said their brief goodbyes to the assassin family. Sam is the last to head their way, shoulders back and head high, trying not to glance back.   
Ravage slinks forward and snaps her duffle bag from her grasp, shooting off into the shuttle. “Brat.” She chuckles to herself, lifting her weapons bag higher on her shoulder.   
She pauses at the bottom of the ramp and gives in for one last glance back at the gathered family waving to her. Her gaze lingers on the wispy figures standing on top of the port tower, outnumbering the living beneath them. Her ghosts have come to see her off the planet at last.  
Drift’s holoform leans in from behind and whispers in her ear, arms winding around her waist. “I see them too. They consent to you leaving. Give you a last farewell.”   
Her gaze cuts over the more recent dead and finally settles on her siblings. “I thought I was imaging it.” She responds distractedly. Oki, Alexander, Yoseph, Maden, John, Alof, Fen, Joel and Darryl. Her eyes lock last on Mike as he blows her a kiss.  
“We don’t have to go.” He offers.  
She slowly shakes her head. “I can’t watch anymore leave me. It’s too much now.” He hugs her tight and rests his cheek to her throat.  
“Then that is why they are here.” She steps out of his hold and rests her fist to her heart, bowing her head to them. They echo her actions. And then she turns and doesn’t look back, never watching from the window as her planet drifts away.  
When she alights onto the Lost Light, the bay packed with curious Cybertronians of all shapes and sizes, Rodimus turns to the new arrivals and aims a smile at her, arms wide to his side. “Welcome home guys.”  
Resting her head against the side of Drift’s helm she scans the enormous space.   
‘Home,’ she thinks ‘it feels right here.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I started writing this over a year ago, my Nana’s death brought me back to post this story. In some attempt to memories her to a larger world.  
> And now, having learned a few days ago of the sudden death of my Grandad, her husband of 63 years, it feels right to finish the story here to memories him.  
> They’re back together, here in one place once more.


End file.
